


Atlantis: The Lost Planet

by ButterflyApocalypse



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Atlantis, Artistic Liberties, Basically Altantis: The Lost Empire but it's Star Trek, But not exactly, But two days late and 23k later..., Complete disregard for scientific accuracy regarding nebulas, Graphic depictions of NEBULAS, It's Space It's Spirk It's Disney, It's science FICTION, M/M, Overall this is pretty much on par with the wholesomeness of the Disney film, Star Trek Reverse Big Bang, This was only supposed to be 9k, What not to love, You could probably have just watched the movie and still be entertained by this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-12 05:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19222099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyApocalypse/pseuds/ButterflyApocalypse
Summary: Jim Kirk has spent his entire life believing the lost planet Atlantis is out there, along with it's rich history and technology. He could have never imagined what he would truly find or the consequences that would follow.OR a Atlantis: The Lost Empire AU that's absolutely action-packed with adventure and significantly more relationship development than the film. It includes all your classic favorites:-Space-Suspenseful chases-Unnecessarily Petty and Dramatic Vulcan Arguments-Awkward Hand Brushing-The Evil of Capitalism-And More!Read now, and we'll also throw in a set of steak knives!Inspired by art by spirkandkock on tumblr!





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2019 Reverse Big Bang! Inspired by art by spirkandkock on tumblr!  
> Also a quick PSA: This fic has never met scientific accuracy, the densest nebulae are actually less dense than the most empty vacuum ever created on earth and if they were condensed would only weigh several kilograms (source: NASA), but this fact was ignored for the sake of Drama. Enjoy!

Jim Kirk stared into the vast nothingness of space as it whipped by the window. So many stars and planets passed by, some inhabited by known beings, others barren, and unfathomably more still unknown. In another life, Jim might have spent his time exploring as many planets as he could, but as it was, only one planet consumed his attention:

Atlantis. 

A planet so lost, its existence had achieved myth status. Yet Jim knew better. He ran his fingers over the aged cover of the journal in his hands. It was, for all intents and purposes, his ticket to the stars. The paper within was so worn, it was soft to the touch, but despite that, the symbols adorning the pages stood out stark and black against the stained paper. Jim smiled to himself knowing that he was the only one onboard who could read it. 

“Still obsessed with that journal?” A voice startled Jim from his reverie. Dr. McCoy --Bones, he was called-- leaned with one arm against the window in front of Jim.

“Bones! I didn’t see you there.” Jim cleared his throat 

Bones raised an arching brow. “Should I check your vision?” He quipped. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” Jim said, adjusting his glasses. “Just distracted. I’ve been waiting for this trip for quite some time and I… I’m still convincing myself that it’s actually happening.” 

“Is that so? I hadn’t heard.” Bones said dryly. Jim shrugged goodnaturedly in response. It was true that he’d been on the... _ enthusiastic  _ side since he’d exited Earth’s atmosphere, but he felt justified. It was a lifelong ambition to find the lost planet Atlantis. Most people just accepted that it was lost, long dead or taken over. Others believed it never existed at all. As for Jim? There was nothing he believed more than Atlantis. He’d scoured every source of information he could find. He’d exhausted the interplanetary library’s collection on Atlantis. He’d gathered every artifact remotely connected to the planet. In his mind, it was impossible that this planet wasn’t real. Certainly, it sounded make believe to uneducated ears: a civilization originally from earth that split off before reliable recorded history with technology beyond what they had now in the future. Jim knew from the long dead language and the journal, bequeathed to him anonymously, that not only was it possible but probable. That Atlanteans had some form of power source that allowed them to accomplish so much. Jim could hardly imagine what they could do with such a power source now with their technology. 

“Hey now,” Jim said. “I’m sure you were as excited for your first mission.”

“Dr. McCoy? Excited to be in space?” Both men turned to the sound of a gentle laugh as Nurse Chapel came up behind them. “That’s something I’d like to see.”

“Christine,” Bones greeted her. “I’m sure you didn’t come all the way up here just to rib me about my _completely reasonable_ _wariness_ of space flight.”

She frowned slightly. “Yes. You see, Mr. Chekov and Mr. Sulu--”

“I’ve heard plenty,” Bones said, already making his way out. “Where are they? Is there blood?” 

“Third deck, and yes, but I don’t think it’s either one of theirs!” Nurse Chapel called after his retreating figure. After a moment, she turned to Jim as if suddenly remembering he was there. “Oh! And you better get to the bridge.”

“What? Why?” Jim asked. He scrambled up, grasping the journal. 

“Hm? Oh, I believe we’re getting close. They wanted some more precise direction,” she answered. “I’m going to help Dr. McCoy, but you ought to hurry.” 

Jim didn’t need to be told twice. He’d only been on the bridge once, right after he had first boarded. He spoke to the captain briefly, shook his hand, and then was ushered out to discuss navigation with Chekov. 

Hustling down the ship’s hallways now, Jim’s heart raced.  _ They were getting close. _ That meant his rough translations that got them to this quadrant of this galaxy would no longer be enough. Of course he’d spent every waking moment poring over the text for alternate possible translations and details he may have missed, but now that it was time for him to present his findings again, he had to fight off feelings of uncertainty. It was now or never. Jim knew his translations would get them close. He had to trust his gut as well as his mind on this. 

As he entered through the doors of the bridge, several curious officers looked up from their stations. Jim nodded politely in acknowledgement as he made his way to the platform where the Captain sat.

“Ah, Mr. Kirk,” the Captain said as Jim approached. “About time! We’ve just about reached the end of your original directions. I trust you have the rest of the way translated?”

“Yes sir,” Jim said, presenting his notes tucked neatly behind the front cover of the journal. While he certainly could have taken them electronically, it felt more natural to keep the Atlantean language as he found it --old fashioned, stained onto paper with ink. “I believe the next--”

The captain waved a hand, cutting him off. “Great. Consult Mr. Chekov and see to it that he has the proper route set. When you’re finished, start working on a brief to prepare the crew for what we can expect when we reach Atlantis.” He turned away, a clear dismissal. 

Jim was taken aback by the curt interaction, but not enough to forget his etiquette. “Yes sir,” he said. He hesitated a moment more before making his way through the bridge again. The captain must be a busy man, he thought. Perhaps it wasn’t Jim’s place to criticize, but if  _ he  _ were captain, he would be sure to get to know his crew more. At the very least, he would hold a conversation when he could spare the time. But of course, he wasn’t the captain. He was the Atlantis expert and right now it was his job to work out the next stage of their journey with the navigator.

Who was missing from his station. Of course. Chekov was on the third deck, presumably in need of medical attention. That left Jim unable to complete his assignment. Sighing, he settled down in the navigator’s empty chair. For a moment he fiddled idly with the journal. He liked the soft feeling of the paper as he fanned it across the pad of his thumb. He liked the comforting weight in his hands. He liked the simultaneously familiar and mysterious text it held within. For a moment, he considered reviewing his notes again on the route they needed to take, but he had it memorized. There was no point until Chekov arrived. 

He took a moment to survey the bridge. It was truly fascinating to watch the precision and order with which the helm crew functioned. Quiet exchanges between officers filled the space with a lively murmur. Jim recognized several officers he’d been introduced to. Uhura, the communications officer, sat holding a device to her ear with one hand and adjusted a dial with the other. Her gaze was fixed on a distant point as she concentrated on listening. Jim considered waving to her, but she was very focused on her work. 

Jim caught sight of a man called Scotty leaning over an officer’s chair. He seemed to be speaking quickly and urgently. Jim was a little surprised to see him on the bridge; he’d hardly ever seen him away from the engine room, even for meals. It would take a lot to drag him all the way to the front of the ship. 

Suddenly, Scotty looked up and caught Jim’s gaze. “Mr. Kirk!” He called and hurried over. “You’re the one who knows where the planet is?”

“Well sort of.” Jim held up the journal. “I know where to go next based on where we are now. The journal gets more and more specific the closer to the planet we get.” 

“But you know where we’re going next, lad?” He pressed.

“Yes, I’m waiting to speak with Mr. Chekov about it.” Jim nodded.

Scotty grabbed his shoulders. “Please tell me we’re not headed into that nebula there.” He gestured to the large viewing window. On the leftmost side, an expansive crimson nebula bloomed in the distance. It was amorphous, like ink in water. It was beautiful yet foreboding. It also just so happened to be exactly where the journal directed them to go. “The engines aren’t equipped to handle the dust and gases there. And we’d lose visibility for sure. It’d be a huge risk. No, it’d be suicide! Best, we avoid it, don’t you think?”

Jim blinked several times, unsure how to respond. No matter how he’d read the journal, no matter how he translated the text, he was  _ most  _ certain that they had to go into the nebula. He cleared his throat. “Well, you see--”

“Mr. Kirk!” Chekov’s unmistakable voice rang out through the room. Jim was quite popular for his second visit to the bridge. Ducking around Scotty, Jim watched as Chekov trotted in, sporting an impressive black eye. “I’m here to discuss the updated navigation.”

“Um, yes,” Jim said. He tried not to stare at the young man’s bruised eye but it was rather distracting. He brandished the journal in front of him. “I have my notes here.”

Chekov nodded, frantically pressing buttons and manipulating his screen. “I’ve got the programming up, so whenever you’re ready, Mr. Kirk.”

“Right, uh…” He spared another glance at his shiner before rummaging through his notes. Scotty stood close by, anxious to hear what Jim knew to be bad news. “According to my notes, our course is going to put us…” He avoided Scotty’s gaze, looking directly at Chekov’s attentive (and bruised) face. “We need to…” 

Scotty leaned forward. Chekov nodded, eye beginning to swell shut. It was looking pretty bad. He better ask about it.

“Pardon me, but how  _ did  _ you get that bruised eye, Mr. Chekov?” Jim asked quickly. He studiously ignored Scotty’s frustrated slump. 

Chekov straightened up proudly. “Oh this?” He asked pointing to his eye. “Well, you see, I was walking from mess hall when I overheard some people calling this mission a waste of time. Naturally, I had to stop and defend the mission! So I told them --you know what I told them? I said ‘I can redirect the ship to drop off your unnecessary weight then.’ I mean… that’s what Mr. Sulu said,” Chekov quickly amended as he watched Sulu approach and take his seat nearby. “But I was thinking it. So we had an argument when they had the  _ gall  _ to insult Russia! There was no way I was letting  _ that _ go, and I told them so. We got into a fight then. I didn’t realize they were carrying blood to storage though, and one of the bags got ripped and blood got everywhere, and Nurse Chapel saw and went and got Dr. McCoy and he broke up the fight.”

“So you got your black eye during the fight?” Jim asked.

“Ye-n-...yes,” Chekov stuttered out. “Yes. It’s a mark of my bravery, defending Russia.”

Nearby, Sulu raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t see you get hit there,” he commented. 

“You were busy trying to get your sword out.” Chekov sounded defensive.

Sword? Jim thought. Why did Sulu have a sword? There was so much about this crew he had yet to learn...

“Are you sure you didn’t get it when you panicked and ran into the wall after Nurse Chapel reminded you that you were needed on the bridge?” Sulu teased. 

Chekov reddened. “That --it didn’t happen like that!”

It was then that Bones and Chapel entered the bridge.

“Mr. Chekov, I saw you had quite the impact with the wall,” Bones said. Chekov ducked his head. “But we can do your treatment on the bridge since you were in such a hurry to get here.”

Chekov just nodded, hunching over his screen as Bones began prodding his bruise. “Can I have the navigation route, Mr. Kirk?” He asked in smaller voice. 

“Of course,” Jim said. “There’s some very specific directions that might not make sense until we get to it, so once we enter the nebula--”

“ _ Enter _ the  _ nebula _ ?!” Scotty burst out. “I  _ knew _ it! We’re just gonna head straight into the very nebula I said to  _ avoid at all costs _ ! The engines aren’t meant to handle the dust! We don’t have the equipment to navigate it!”

Bones looked up from applying a fine dusty substance to Chekov’s face. “What do you mean the engines aren’t meant to handle it?”

“I mean it’s suicide!” Scotty despaired. Bones paled slightly and returned to his patient.  

“What’s all the fuss about?” Uhura had left her station to come up behind Scotty. 

“Mr. Kirk wants to lead us straight into certain death--,” “Scotty is doubting my ability to steer the ship--,” “I  _ knew _ I was gonna die in space--,” “The journal directs us into the nebula--,” “I have a black eye.” Scotty, Sulu, Bones, Jim, and Chekov answered respectively in an overlapping cacophony. 

Uhura raised her eyebrows at their outbursts. “Sound like we’ve got a bumpy ride ahead. Should I warn the crew to buckle down?”

Jim jolted as he realized she was talking to him. “Oh! Well, I believe that would be up to the captain.”

“The captain will trust my judgement and I’m trusting yours. Do I make the announcement or not?”

Jim halnced from Scotty’s distressed expression to Sulu’s solemn one to the notes he held in his hands. He wasn’t used to giving orders of any kind but he knew what his answer was.

“Yes; announce to the crew that once we enter the nebula--,” beside Jim, Scotty stiffened-- “Visibility and engine function will be impaired. Everyone should be prepared to respond quickly to an emergency situation from a secure location.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Kirk,” Uhura said. She placed a sympathetic hand on Scotty’s shoulder as she turned away. In just a moment her voice echoed through the whole ship. “ **Attention. The ship is preparing to enter a nebula. Prepare for impaired visibility and engine function. Report to stations immediately. I repeat, report to stations immediately.** ”

With that, the ship sprung into action. Scotty hurried off the bridge, presumably to the engine room. Bones and Chapel quickly finished treating Chekov’s eye (which was now barely swollen).

“Prepare medbay. I expect at least a few bumps and bruises from this,” Bones told Chapel who nodded and followed Scotty out. He turned Jim, placing a hand gently on his arm. “You  _ better _ get us out of this alive. I’m counting on you.” 

Jim nodded. “I will certainly give it my best effort.” 

“And I don’t want to see  _ you _ in medbay again, Mr. Chekov,” Bones said.

“I make no promises.” Chekov didn’t take his eyes off his screen. Bones rolled his eyes and hurried off. As soon as he was out of sight, Chekov looked up. “Where to first, Mr. Kirk?”

Even though he didn’t need to, Jim pulled flipped through his notes. “We need to enter the nebula. Ideally, we should enter closest to the center. The dust is thickest there but it’s the most direct route.”

Silently, Chekov manipulated the coding on his screen until it became filled with an image of the nebula. Even on screen, it filled Jim with a sense of unease. Its feathery branching arms seemed to reach out and consume the stars and planets around it. Hardly any light penetrated through the thickest sections. It put Jim in mind of when he was a child in Iowa, watching supercells roll in. He watched the nebula growing closer with the same sort of anticipation where perhaps he should feel fear. 

In space, direction is meaningless without a point of reference. In some ways, so are speed and size. The distant stars passing by gave no indication of truly how fast they were traveling. The distance between the ship and their destination should be impossible to traverse; as humans had dedicated their entire existence to doing the impossible, however, the ship leapt boldly forward. Steering directly towards the nebula, it’s vastness became clear. It expanded to fill the entire window, flooding the bridge with red-cast light. 

All through the ship, curious, fearful, enraptured eyes peeked out every window. Nebulas had been, to this point, a vague concept, something to be put on a poster. They were something that existed in space to be pondered over. Now they were on the edge of entering one.

On the bridge, there was no less awe. The first, most remote curls of red dust brushed over the hull of the ship. 

Sulu broke the silence. “Locate the optimal entry point. We’re going in.”

“Mr. Kirk?” Chekov said, indicating to his screen which displayed crosshairs over a section near the middle of the nebula. It was very dense there, but Kirk knew that was their best best at a straight shot. 

Kirk glanced at his notes again, just to be sure. “Yes, that should work.” 

 “Mr. Sulu,” the captain called. “Approximate time until entry?”

“Five minutes at current speed. With permission to increase speed, two minutes,” Sulu replied with only a brief glance away from his work. 

“Permission granted.”

“Increasing speed,” Sulu reported. 

“Uhura, begin a countdown,” the captain ordered. 

“ **Entry in t-minus two minutes. Prepare for entry.”** Came her announcement through the ship. 

“Once we enter the nebula, what’s the next point?” Chekov asked Jim. 

“We need to get through the outer wall of the nebula. According to the journal, it’s sort of double-layered. Though the wall is densest at the middle, it’s the thinnest so we have the least chance of getting lost. It’s imperative that we maintain our trajectory. There’s no telling how the change in dust and gas will affect the instruments, so just keep moving forward.” Kirk double checked his notes as he spoke. 

“Straighten up and fly right, got it,” Sulu said with a slight shake of his head. 

The bridge fell once again into a tense silence. 

“ **T-minus one minute until entry. Prepare for entry.”**

“ **T-minus thirty seconds until entry. Prepare for entry.”**

“ **T-minus twenty seconds until entry. Prepare for entry.”**

Around the bridge, people began shuffling nervously. At this point, visibility was already going south. Dust brushed over the ship on all sides, like driving through the beginning of a sandstorm. 

“Brace yourselves,” the captain warned.

“ **Entry in T-minus 10, 9, 8, 7--** ”

The ship began shaking like an airplane through turbulence. 

“ **6, 5, 4--”**

Occasional flickers of light of stars nestled deep within the nebula flashed by.

“ **3, 2, 1...Entry. Initiate low-visibility proced--”**

At that moment the ship gave a violent lurch to one side, filling the intercom with static. Jim grabbed the back of Chekov’s chair for stability. The lights onboard flickered once but stayed on. 

“Slight change to trajectory,” Chekov reported solemnly. Sulu’s lips were pressed together into a thin line. 

“Can we correct for it?” The captain asked.

Sulu shook his head. “Did something to the instruments. They didn’t measure how severe the interference was.”

“Mr. Kirk, what do you advise?” The captain turned to look at Jim. 

With a hint of franticness, Jim flipped through his pages of notes on the outer nebula. “I suppose...our best hope is to make a slight correction. I wouldn’t risk any major changes to trajectory in case we overshoot.”

“You heard him, Sulu,” said the captain.

Sulu nodded and ever so slightly guided the ship back towards the other side. Almost immediately, the ship lurched again and the lights sputtered out. From deeper within the ship, the engines gave a groan. 

“Uhura, get me a damage report!” The captain ordered. 

“Yes, sir!” Uhura called in a reply. “...The channel’s out. There’s only static.” 

“Someone go to the engine room, and get a damage report.” The captain ordered. 

One of the officers jumped up but paused when the door didn’t open. He pressed the button next to it, but nothing happened. He pressed it again and then began trying to pry the door open himself. There was panic in his eyes as he turned around. “Captain, the door won’t open! We’re trapped!” 

The captain shook his head. “Nevermind the damage report. Mr. Sulu--”

Another bout of shaking over took the ship, throwing officers from their chairs. Kirk was knocked off his feet. His journal fell from his hands and sent scribbled notes flying. Scrambling to pick them up, Jim cried, “My notes! I dropped my notes!”         

“Mr. Kirk! Visibility is returning!” Sulu shouted over the rattling of the ships metal. 

Indeed, in the window, pockets of less dense dust danced over. Distantly, a light way becoming clearer. Sulu steered the ship towards it. 

“We’re reaching the inner layer!” Chekov called in excitement.

No, that wasn’t right, Jim thought. It was far too soon. The journal hadn’t said anything about a light in the inner layer...but it had mentioned a red star in a pocket of an eternal storm. 

“Wait!” Jim called. But it was too late. The dust cleared into a vast pocket of clarity in the nebula wall. In the center, a red star simmered. For a moment all seemed peaceful. A cheer rose up around the bridge.

“Wait! Wait!” Jim shouted. “This isn’t the center! We must get out of here! Mr. Sulu!”

“What do you mean it’s not the center?” Sulu asked incredulously. 

“I mean, it’s a pocket in the outer wall and it’s  _ exceedingly dangerous _ . We need to  _ get out of here _ ,” Jim hissed.  

Chekov and Sulu flew into action, trying to correct their course back into the clouds of dust. 

“It’s not working!” Sulu said. 

“Mr. Sulu, what are you  _ doing _ ?” The captain demanded. 

“This isn’t the center! We can’t be here!” Jim answered for him. “And what do you mean it’s not working?”

“We’re being pulled in.” He said. “We can try to go parallel or diagonal to the pull, but I don’t think we can directly oppose it. It will take us longer to get out, but I don’t see anything dangerous right now--”

A bright burst from the red star’s corona burst forth on the opposite side of the pocket violently shook the ship, followed by several bright bursts of light. 

“Got it. Chekov, get me the quickest route out of here,” Sulu finished.

“We could attempt a Hohmann Transfer…” Chekov suggested with uncertainty. 

“That will keep us in orbit too close to the star for too long,” Jim said. “We need escape velocity now.”

“I don’t have the ability to get us there. We would need contact with the engine room,” Sulu said. 

“Do we have contact with the engine room?” Jim called across the bridge.

“Uhura, attempt to contact the engine room again. And I need more officers working on the door,” the captain ordered. 

“All intercoms are still down, Captain,” Uhura replied. 

Chekov groaned quietly. “Maintain the largest orbit possible then.” He looked desperately at Jim for answers. Maybe Jim did have answers, someone in his scattered notes--

Another burst of energy peeled off the star, closer this time. The force of it sent the ship tumbling. There were shouts and screams as officers were thrown from their seats. Jim managed to hold on to both Chekov and his chair. Thankfully, Sulu proved his mettle as a pilot and straightened the ship within moments. 

“Mr. Kirk, you must tell us how to get out of here!” Chekov said. 

“I would love to, but my notes happen to be scattered who knows where and we’re not in a position to find them,” Jim said pointedly. 

“You studied them for weeks! Surely you must remember  _ something _ !” Chekov was bordering on frantic. His eyes were wide and afraid. Next to him, Sulu’s eyes were fixed solemnly on the window where the star distantly shot forth another destructive arm. All around the bridge, people were hopelessly pressing buttons, listening to a static-filled intercom, prying at a locked door. Nobody knew what to do. 

Nobody except for him. 

He might not have his notes, but he had his intellect. This was a crew that was counting on him and he wasn’t about to let them down. Jim had to think.   

He watched the progression of the corona burst, the flash, the explosions where it met pockets of dust or gas. He had an idea. It was risky, maybe even (as Bones had put it) suicidal, but it was the only option he could think of and he was the only one thinking of options. 

“Mr. Chekov,” Jim said.

“Yes?” A desperate sort of hope filled his voice. 

“I need you to locate a section of denser gas or dust,

like the ones that explode after the energy burst from the star.”

“Located!” 

“Mr. Sulu, position the ship on the outer edge of that section on the side away from the star.” Jim ordered. 

Sulu clearly knew what Jim was planning because his eyes widened. “This is crazy...But I don’t have a better plan.”

Once they were in position, the ship slowed to a stop (or a near thing) for the first time on their journey. 

“Now what?” Chekov asked.

“We wait,” Jim answered. 

“What are you planning?” The captain demanded.

“Just wait,” Jim said.

Under normal circumstances, the captain may have reprimanded Jim for his insubordination, but this was far from a normal situation. Another burst from the star sent rattles through the ship. It was too far away for it to move them this time. 

“Prepare for another tumble,” Jim warned. “And wait for it.”

Several tense moments passed between star bursts. One came just close enough to set the ship drifting slowly. 

Then, finally, a bright flash appeared from the star and came directly for them. Jim held on to Chekov’s chair and squeezed his eyes shut. There was nothing to do now except see what fate had in store for them. 

There was no sound to the explosions, but Jim could see the bright flashes through his eyelids. He  _ felt _ it as their pocket of dust combusted and then suddenly they were in motion again. The force of the explosion sent them hurtling back into the walls of the nebula. The ship was flipping like a coin, forcing the blood out of Jim’s head. His vision became clouded with black spots and he felt his grip weaken on the chair. He just needed to stay awake. There was no way he was going to survive a burst from an unstable star only to die of G-force. His vision tunneled. Something loose on the bridge hit him in the face as they spiraled but he couldn’t see what it was. He just had...to stay...awake…..

 

Jim woke up laying on the floor of the bridge. His journal lay open next to his head. He slowly became aware of a sense of nausea and the feeling the lights were far too bright for his addled brain--the  _ lights! _

He sat up abruptly (much to the protest of his....everything). The lights were back, the door the the bridge was open. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear Uhura’s voice over the intercom. 

“Mr. Kirk! You’re awake!” Chekov said cheerfully. He was sporting a black eye. For a panicked moment, Jim wondered if he’d passed out and dreamed the entire nebula. But no...It was now his other eye that was bruised and swollen. Out the window, endless red dust was all that was visible. “I’m happy to report that something in the explosion or the tumble after jogged the power! Communications are back on and our course is set to a large low-density section that I believe has to be the center clearing. We should arrive in a matter of minutes.”

“I...what?” Jim rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to clear the floaters. 

“You did it! Your idea worked.” Chekov gave him an enthusiastic but unappreciated slap on the arm.

“Mr. Kirk!” Came the captain’s stern voice. Jim looked up, worried. Then the captain’s expression softened into something like pride, “Well done. It’s good to see someone who’s good in a crisis. Without notes.” He jerked his chin to indicate the scraps of paper littering the bridge. “When we arrive at the planet, we’re going to need squad leaders. After your performance just now, I’d say you’re a top contender.”

“I- sir- well- I....Thank you!” Jim spluttered. 

“In fact…” the captain muttered. “Attention, crew! You all owe your lives to Mr. Kirk. He has potential as a leader! I want you all to pay him the respect he deserves.”

There was a small chorus of ‘yes captain’s and several officers milled over to offer Jim their congratulations. 

Chekov looked slightly starstruck (perhaps that was a poor choice of words, considering…). “Wow, Mr. Kirk! I have never seen the captain praise someone like that!”

“I have. Once.” Jim looked up to see that Bones had come up behind him. Though not particularly stealthy, he always seemed to manage to catch Jim by surprise.

“You have?” Chekov asked.

“Yes,” Bones elaborated. “I walked into his quarters to treat an injury and caught him talking to himself in the mirror.”  

A laugh rose at that. Jim opened his mouth to add a quip when he noticed the laugh had died.

All around, people stared straight forward with dropped jaws and awe in their eyes. Jim followed their gazes and felt his own jaw fall open.

Outside the window, the last tendrils of dust curled off the ship. The clearing in the nebula was like a stadium of cosmic size. In the center, another nebula-like mass gathered, shaped like an open palm. Nestled in its center was a pure blue orb.

Jim recognized it. The red hand holding a blue jewel, an illustration straight out of the journal. That was it...It was…

The captain cleared his throat. “Behold: Atlantis.” 


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlantis is much different than Jim imagined. It's much, much scarier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Science Fact 1 of the day!! Lobsters don't die of old age!! They only die when their shells become too thick that the energy it takes to shed them is too taxing for the lobster and it dies, killed by its own shell.  
> Science Fact 2 of the day!! There are several sounds recorded underwater that have unidentified sources, sound CREEPY as HECK, and have Funky Fresh names like "The Bloop," "Julia," and "Slow Down." IMO those are all good band names and they should consider a collab. (If you're reading this at night maybe don't go look those up, they're EERIE. If you're reading during the day, enoy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_unexplained_sounds)  
> Science Fact 3 of the day!! The Mariana Trench is deeper than Mount Everest is tall! In fact if you put the tallest mountain in the galaxy we're aware of Olympus Mons at the bottom of the Trench, it would only rise as high as Mount Everest above sea level.  
> I hope you feel educated and maybe vaguely fearful of the unknown ocean that makes up the majority of our world. That's the proper mood for enjoying this chapter!!

Jim Kirk stared out at the perfect blue sphere of Atlantis as the ship orbited it endlessly. Since the ship has lost control, he had since recovered his journal and most of his notes (though occasionally, someone on the bridge would find another page and return it to him). He’d taken extremely detailed notes from his translations of the journal on what they might expect when they finally ventured onto the planet. ‘Onto’ was perhaps not the right word. The entire surface of the planet was covered in miles of pure blue water. There were icecaps at the poles but otherwise no land structure in sight. Their mission entailed rather going  _ into _ the planet. Scans of Atlantis indicated solid or mostly solid material underneath the water, less than a mile deep at some sections. It was difficult to get precise readings from their distance from the planet, which was part of why they were beginning their excursions. 

They were heading out soon and Jim supposed he should go find his squad and give the crew one last brief on what to expect once they reached the planet. Though the journal was ancient and likely no longer fully accurate regarding the geography of the aquatic world, something was better than nothing. 

Jim was expecting ruins of ancient temples and dearly hoped they wouldn't be too weathered to read and analyze. He hoped for pieces of their technology and maybe some insight on how the ancient civilization had become so advanced. The first thing was to actually  _ find  _ the place. It was one thing (and quite a thing it was) to find the planet, but now finding the ruins of the ancient civilization may be akin to finding a needle in a haystack. Atlantis looked to be about the size of earth (according to some of the scientists, it was just a little larger).

Not for the first time on the mission, Jim was filled with a sense of awe. He found it hard to convince himself that this was actually happening. Seeing really was different than believing. And seeing was multitudes better. 

With a deep breath, Jim took one last look at Atlantis before he went planet-side. It was showtime. 

He made his way through the ship, following the sound of overlapping chatter where the crew were met in their squads, preparing to depart. Each squad had a miniature ship called a pod (Jim wasn’t sure that was the official name for them, but it was accurate. ‘A rose by any other name’ and all that). Jim’s squad consisted of Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, Scotty, Bones, and Chapel. They were known as Squad Alpha. The captain had truly been impressed by Jim’s performance because he’d trusted some of the most essential crew members to his delegated command. Each one of them had been allowed a small bag for personal belongings and survival gear. Though they didn’t anticipate getting separated from the small fleet of pods or losing contact with the ship in orbit, it was much better to be prepared. Especially when their information was based on cursory scans and an ancient handwritten text.

“There you are, Jim!” Bones called. 

“We were about to leave without you!” Uhura added with a laugh.

Out of everyone on the ship, Jim had always felt closest to Bones. He’d been very relieved when he found out Bones would be part of his squad. Unfortunately, it seemed his attitude of lose respect for authority had rubbed off on the rest of the squad. 

“Take my bag and leave me?” He raised his eyebrows. He helped Scotty load the last of the bags into the pod. 

“Your bag’s worth more,” Bones quipped. “Don’t you have a brief to give?” As soon as he gave his last brief and the captain gave his okay, they would be on their way. “I’d  _ really _ prefer to be planetside if it’s all the same to you.”

“Hmm, I was thinking about taking one last stroll around the ship. Maybe a nap. It’s not  _ that  _ urgent,” Jim teased. Of course he didn’t mean it in the slightest. He was hardly containing his excitement for the mission. Taking note of the captain’s stoicism, though, Jim repressed enthusing at length to ears who’d heard his spiel over and over again.

Bones sent him gentle glare. 

“Alright, give him two minutes.” Jim moved into the center of the crowd, clearing his throat. “Excuse me!” Nobody quieted down. “May I have your attention!” Jim tried again to the same result. 

“HEY! Do you want to get out of here or not?!” Uhura shouted over the din.  Immediately the crew fell silent.

“Thank you,” Jim said. Uhura smiled amiably. “As you all know, we are moments away from making the first human contact with the planet Atlantis, believed to be lost by most and even mythical by others. I’m sure each of you were given specific of the area you were assigned to explore. We are searching this planet for many reasons; we are making scientific discoveries; we are learning about it’s past culture and technology; we are finding clues about the planet’s formation; we--”

“We’re gonna make a  _ buttload _ of money!” An officer from the crowd called up to an uproarious cheer. 

“Cheers!” Scotty and Chekov toasted drinks. Jim wasn’t certain where they’d gotten them. 

“Er- well. For the mercenaries among you--” Another cheer. “We will certainly make discoveries that could make you rich. Whatever your reason for taking this mission--”

“Money!” 

“You are going to find something fulfilling on Atlantis.” Jim ignored the interjection. “Search for city ruins, cave systems, or anything that looks like it was not naturally made. Record all living creatures and take samples when possible.”

Jim looked up to see the captain enter. It was time. “One last warning I will leave you with: though they’re likely out of repair after all this time, you may encounter some of the civilization’s defenses. There is a chance that some may still be active, so use caution. Should you be attacked by anything report it immediately. It may indicate that you’re near the remains of the city. Good luck.” He nodded his head at the captain, abdicating the center of the floor. 

“This is the moment we’ve been waiting for, crew. Keep in touch-- and I mean that. Keep daily logs at the very least. Any pod that goes 24 hours without a log will be assumed lost and the possessions of the crew remained on the ship will be auctioned promptly.” Immediate mutters of dissent from the crew. “So keep up those logs! Load up! Pods launch in five.”

Jim and his squad shuffled into their pod. It was far from luxurious. Bunks lined the wall three high. There were two storage units, one miniature scientific station nestled (concernedly) near the food prep area. The front of the ship made a microcosm of a bridge. Jim made his way to the captain’s chair. He  _ was _ the captain of this squad. No, it wasn’t luxurious, but to Jim, it was perfect. 

 

_ Captain’s log, day 13. All is peaceful planetside. We briefly made contact with Squad Sigma this morning. They had followed a current that runs from nearer to the north pole all the way to the equator where Squad Alpha is located. Despite clean, oxygen-rich water and all around ideal conditions, Squad Sigma reported the same low biodiversity at all latitudes that Squad Alpha has consistently reported.  _

_ Other than this encounter, there is little else to report. Water clarity remains constant at one mile. Bio-material per square meter remains stable .00016. No unusual chemicals are present in the surrounding water. Continued traces of copper. No changes to pressure.  _

_ James T. Kirk, Squad Alpha, out. _

With a sigh, Jim pressed the button to end his recording and as if on autopilot, went through the procedures to send his log to the ship still orbiting the planet. It had been two weeks of the same. The first few days, Jim clung on to his enthusiasm. When they reached their first week with nearly identical reports from all over the planet (save for factors like temperature) Jim felt his spirit dwindling. Now, at day thirteen, Jim longed for something,  _ anything _ to happen. 

“Is anyone else starting to feel like this entire mission was a waste of time?” Chekov’s voice drifted out of his bunk, embedded in the wall. 

“Mr. Chekov, this is your sleeping shift, I suggest you take advantage of it,” Jim admonished. In truth, Jim was beginning to feel the same way. He hated the feeling, but he had to acknowledge that the journal might be too old, that the civilization was too far gone, weathered away, and left no evidence. That didn’t mean he wanted to hear it from his squad though. 

“Believe me, Mr. Kirk, I’m trying,” Chekov moaned. “I just don’t feel like I did enough when I was supposed to be awake to warrant going to sleep.” Again, it was an echo of Jim’s own sentiments. Chekov giggled. “Looks like Dr. McCoy has the opposite problem.”

Jim turned to see Bones slumped over at the science station, snoring lightly. So that’s what that sound was. Jim thought he was just starting to go crazy. A good captain would wake up a crew member slacking on duty...but Jim was finding it hard to care. It wasn’t as if Bones would be adding much to the productivity of the squad were he awake. There wasn’t much for anyone to do. Besides, it was nice to see that someone in their pod was getting some sleep; Uhura flipped mindlessly through Jim’s journal (it turned out Uhura had a knack for picking up languages and Jim could see the pages of the journal with his eyes closed so there was no harm in letting her borrow it); Scotty fidgeted with a gadget he’d brought along with him (he’d taken it apart and put it back together upward of one hundred times); Chapel was also supposed to be sleeping, but she sat on the floor next to her bunk putting intricate braids in her hair before taking them out again (she’d tried on everyone else. Chekov had been willing to let her, but his hair did not cooperate); Sulu and Chekov had taken up a lazy game of catch with a rolled up pair of socks.

Jim turned back to the mini bridge. It really felt hopeless. He placed the headphones over his ears to pretend to listen to the log reports from other squads. It was relaxing it a way. It was functionally the same information repeated in different, familiar voices. Very occasionally, someone included an entertaining tale and once there was a poor rendition of a song by one of the squads broadcasted over the channel. He almost felt like he could die doing this...Just drift peacefully into a sleep and never wake up...It would be poetic in a way, to do die on the planet he’d dreamed of reaching. He sort of thought he might. Somehow when he’d imagined it though, dying of  _ boredom _ never occurred to him.  

**_Squad Alpha._ **

Jim sat bolt up at the voice. For a moment he was disoriented. The water was significantly darker now than when he’d closed his eyes. The board on the bridge was blinking now. Jim scrambled to press the button to reply.

“Y-yes?” He said.

Immediately the rest of the squad was up and surrounding his chair. 

**_According to your last report, you were the last squad to have visual on Squad Sigma. Are they still in your area?_ **

Jim cast a glance at his squad. Everyone shook their heads.

“That’s a negative. They departed from us this morning, approximately twelve hours ago. They were continuing along the south running current when then left.”

There was silence over the communicator for several moments. When no response came, Jim pressed his button again. 

“Is there an issue?” He asked.

**_We have lost contact with Squad Sigma. Stand by for an announcement._ **

The squad pressed closer, anxious to hear what was happening. 

**_Attention all squads. We have lost contact with Squad Sigma. All information surrounding this disappearance must be reported immediately. Until the pod is located, all pods are advised to maintain their position and send frequent blips to confirm their presence. Acknowledge._ **

Jim pressed his button. “Acknowledged. Initiating blips every ten minutes.”

Uhura was already by his side, setting up the blips. He nodded to her gratefully. Chekov came to his other side and enlarged a map of the surrounding area. Approximate locations of pods from occasional blips were indicated by green dots.

**_Squad Gamma, Acknowledge._ **

“They better not be asleep,” Scotty muttered.

“Let’s  _ hope _ they’re asleep. It beats the alternative…” Jim said. “Increase blip frequency.”

**_Attention all squads, report visuals and most recent knowledge of Squad Gamma._ **

Squad Alpha hadn’t seen Gamma since their launch, so Jim didn’t bother sending a report. 

“Umm...Mr. Kirk…?” Apprehension filled Chekov’s voice. “Blip locations updated...the southmost squad didn’t update their position.”

Chekov pointed to the screen where a dashed outline of a circle flashed with no other blips in the area to indicate that the pod simply moved. 

**_Squad Epsilon. Report._ **

There was barely a moment’s pause before another announcement.

**_All squads report on Squad Epsilon. And Squad Chi._ **

On the screen other circle had turned to dashes. Several tense moments passed. More circles vanished. Kirk’s eyes widened as he saw the pattern. 

**_Attention all squads. Southernmost pods, move north immediately. I repeat, southernmost pods, move north immediately._ **

  “Sulu--” Jim said with urgency, but Sulu was already taking the helm. With Scotty by his side, they flipped switches, pressed buttons and the ship began to propel forward. 

“Due north, don’t dawdle.” Jim ordered. 

Chekov’s eyes were glued to the map with horror. Three more blips ceased, and many moved north. “It’s catching up, whatever’s taking them out.” He said in a small voice. 

 Indeed, there were only a handful of pods still further south than them. As Jim watched, two circles turned to flashing outlines. 

“Can we go any faster?” Bones asked.

“I’d love to, but this isn’t exactly finest craft. I can’t even internally access the engine.” A vein was popping on Scotty’s forehead and the rest of the squad looked to be in the same state. 

“Mr. Kirk, look!” Chekov said. Jim did a double take. They were now the southernmost pod, the only one left below the equator. 

“Mr. Sulu--” Jim’s words died in his throat when an eerie hum surrounded them, so loud is resonated in his chest and so chilling it made his hair stand on end. The water around them was dark. Something was out there, closing in. An eddy rocked the pod. Jim swallowed. “Get some lights on out there. I want to see what we’re dealing with.”

The light flipped on, revealing nothing but the clear dark water. “There’s nothing--”

Everyone fell forward as something hit the side of the pod, and the headlights fell on something huge. 

It was a creature rivaling the size of their spaceship, somewhere between biological and technological. Huge claws floated in front of it. It’s eyes glowed red and it seemed to be for the moment stunned by the sudden light. 

Chekov spoke first. “Course correct, we need to get away!” 

“No! Chekov, find us the south running current.” Jim ordered. 

“Uh! But! ...Yes sir.” He said.

“Sulu, get us in the current. Turn all lights off, including internal lighting.” said Jim. 

There was a noticeable change as they entered the current, like being yanked forward. And not a moment too soon. The creature recovered from its momentary haze. The creature snapped it’s massive claws where their pod had been only seconds before. The pod went completely dark, rushing back the way they’d come with the help of the current. Watching anxiously, they drifted further and further away from the creature. It swiveled its head several times but apparently gave up looking and continued it northbound journey.

**_This is Squad Beta, we have indications of something hug headed north along the path pods have been disappearing. Does anyone have informa-- wait! We have visual. ...No! We--_ **

The transmission cut off with a burst of static. On the screen, another circle disappeared. 

“Maybe it’s tracking radio signals? Or our blips?” Uhura suggested. 

Jim nodded. “Shut them off. I doubt there’s much anyone can do.” Uhura dutifully cancelled the blipping and shut down their radio. 

“Shouldn’t we warn the others?” Bones asked.

“Yes, I don’t feel right about it. We’re not warning the other pods what’s out there?” Chapel agreed.

Jim clenched his jaw. “We don’t have weapons, neither does anyone else. Knowing what it is doesn’t make much of a difference.” But they were right. It went against his morals to leave the rest of the crew without the knowledge they had. “We’re still in the line of danger. Once we’ve put some distance between us and whatever that thing was, we can flip the radio on long enough to report what we saw.” Nobody argued. 

It was nerve wracking, sitting in the silent dark. According the instruments that could remain on, they were headed due south. When they were approximately one hundred miles from their original position, Jim felt they were far enough to warn the others. 

He sent out a quick radio message briefly explaining their encounter and subsequent escape. He warned that light and radio usage may alert the creature to their positions. Flipping off the radio with a sense of finality, Jim sighed.  

Bones echoed his sigh. “I don’t like just riding the current without communications or light. Makes me feel like prey.”                

“Well, you’re in luck,” Chekov said. “The current ends here.” And indeed the ship began to slow down, pushed side to side as the current split and faded. 

“Very comforting, thank you, Mr. Chekov.” Bones shook his head. “I almost rather the creature was chasing us. Then we’d at least know where it  _ is _ .”

A low eerie hum sounded. All eyes turned to Bones. 

“I’m not the sort of man to believe in jinxes...but you just had to say something, didn’t you?” Scotty groaned. 

Outside the window, the glowing red eyes of the creature were distantly growing closer. 

“Maybe it doesn’t see us,” Chapel suggested optimistically. 

“Sulu, move the ship eastward. Maybe it’s just retracing it’s path,” said Jim. As the ship moved, the creature altered its course, blazing eyes fixed on their pod and coming closer at meteoric speeds. Jim shook his head. “No such luck, nurse.” 

“What are we going to do? We can’t outrun that thing!” said Scotty.

“Is there anywhere we can hide?” Jim asked. “Chekov--”

“There appears to be a series of caves up ahead. They may be volcanic in origin, but I don’t believe they’re active anymore. I hope they’re not active anymore.” Chekov responded before Jim could even ask.

“It’s our best shot. Sulu, take us down.”

“I can’t see a thing.” Sulu shook his head as they descended. “We need to take a chance on the light if we don’t want to crash.”

With the light on, Jim could see the terrain of the sea floor as it passed by. Its slopes and ridges were shockingly bare. The entrance of a cave gaped ahead of them. 

Sulu hesitated. “Are we going in?”

The creature’s claw appeared right outside their window with a snap that created bubbles.

“Yes!” Their entire squad cried. There was no telling Sulu twice. 

On the open ocean, the creature was faster, but within the winding labyrinth of the cave, their small pod could navigate with much more ease. 

The walls of the cave shook when the creature didn’t quite clear a corner, sending showers of rocks showering down. Jim’s eyes widened when they zipped passed a column of glowing blue crystal.

“This was in the journal!” He exclaimed. “Keep going, I know where we are.”

“That makes one of us,” said Chekov. 

“If you see a split that goes deeper, take it! It’s like a grease trap!” Jim explained. He spotted another glowing crystal. “It’s coming up soon.” 

He looked behind them and was surprised to see the creature was no longer behind them. Until it appeared in front of them. Jim spotted the entrance to the second cave behind it’s swishing tail.

“Sulu, go under it! We need to go behind its tail!”

“Are you  _ crazy _ ?” Sulu cried.

“Trust me!” Jim said. He squeezed his eyes shut as a claw descended towards them. After several moments and no water death, he dared peek them open. And couldn’t believe his eyes. They were emerging from the water into a dome-like cave lit by the blue crystals. 

“We’re alive!” Chekov cheered. 

With little else to do, the squad emerged from the pod onto the cave beach. 

“Don’t go too far,” said Jim. “Try to find a good place to set up camp. Uhura, will you help me try to contact the ship?” 

“There’s no signal in here.” Uhura held her communicator up, to no avail. 

“Right. I’m going to make a log. See if you can increase the radio strength.” Jim sat down and pulled out a recording device for his log.

_ Squad Alpha Captain’s log. Evening of day 13.  _

_ We encountered a straight mechanical creature that attacked us and presumably others in the fleet. We have no contact. Squad Alpha is currently seeking refuge in what I believe to be a cave left from the civilization of Atlantis. We are attempting to contact the main ship now. Failing that, we will venture further into the cave system to find external food sources or other remains of the ancient civilization. With biological material so sparse so far, I don’t have high hopes. _

He shut the recording off and held his head in his hands. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. This was the discovery of a  _ lifetime _ . Jim took a deep breath. No adventure was without risks. They just had to make it worth it.

“Does anyone else feel like we’re being watched?” Chapel called from across the cave. 

“I thought I was just being paranoid,” Bones said. 

As soon as they mentioned it, Jim too became filled with unease. “Maybe we should keep moving.” There was no protest from the team. 

For caves, they were surprisingly well lit. Sometimes the walls split away, opening up to huge caverns impossibly deep and impossibly tall. Once they had to cross a thin bridge of rock across such a cavern. Someone, Jim wasn’t sure who it was originally, tripped. Immediately everyone else jumped to the rescue and all holding on together, they managed to not fall over the side. (They stopped to rest after that ordeal).

“Can we set up for the night here?” Chekov asked. “I really should have taken advantage of that sleeping shift earlier.” It seemed forever ago now. 

“I don’t see any reason not to,” Bones said. “What do you think Jim?”

They were a little ways away from the perilous bridge in a small flat alcove. The feeling of being watched hadn’t abated during their travels, but Jim supposed it was inevitable considering their environment. 

Jim nodded his head. “This will do. Let’s set up camp.”   

 

_ Jim sighed as he neared the door of his small apartment in Iowa. He’d always dreamed of getting out of here. Seeing the big cities. And maybe  _ really  _ getting out of here, off of Earth. Somehow those dreams had come up dry because nobody thought a planet with technology advanced beyond their comprehension was worth investigating. Several decades ago, there had been one mission, independently funded that disappeared without a trace on the journey. Since then, any potential sponsor had turned him away as soon as he dared mention Atlantis. Today he’d suffered through another unproductive meeting in which his proposal was shot down in the first few minutes. If he wanted to go anywhere with his research on Atlantis, he was beginning to think he was going to have to take another route.  _

_ He fished for his key and immediately stubbed his toe against something. Cursing, he looked down to see a package placed in front of his door.  _ Weird, _ he thought. He hadn’t ordered anything, there was no holiday or birthday coming up or recently passed. He wasn’t sure who would send him a package even then.  _

_ He placed the package on his kitchenette counter. It was solid, but not heavy. Hesitantly, he peeled the brown paper away to reveal… a book. A journal, really. It was completely handwritten in-- in Atlantean! If there was one language Jim would recognize anywhere, it was Atlantean. A note was included with the journal but it only said: _

It is the last will and testament of [REDACTED] that this journal is left to James Tiberius Kirk on behalf of the Grayson Project. 

_ The Grayson Project. That was the first (and only) Atlantis mission! This must have been how they had any idea of where to find Atlantis! Why it had been bequeathed to him and by someone unknown...Jim felt that his luck getting to Atlantis had just changed.  _

  Jim woke with a start, shaking his head to clear it. He was unsure what woke him, but he was wide awake now. Maybe he should get some air and make a log. 

Exiting his tent, Jim was struck with a feeling that something was wrong. The cave was dark. The blue crystals that had been lighting their way were no longer illuminated. He scrambled for his flashlight. Everyone’s small tents were still up, the alcove looked about the same. Stepping out closer to the bridge, his flashlight beam caught a cloudy sort of fog. Jim coughed. It felt raw on his throat. He reached out a hand to touch the fog and yanked it back when it felt like shoving his hand into stinging nettles. He jumped back when he felt some curl around his ankles. This wasn’t good. 

“Hey!” He shouted. “Everyone up! We need to get out of here! Hey! Hey, wake up!” The mist was beginning to fill the cavern outside the alcove. 

Most of the squad emerged groggily from their tents. Scotty’s tent remained undisturbed. Jim yanked it open and tried to shake Scotty awake.

“Mr. Kirk? What’s going on?” Chapel asked. 

“The fog,” he pointed. “It’s poisonous. We need to get out of here. Don’t let it touch your skin!” 

Scotty sleepily smacked Jim’s hands away and rolled over but otherwise did not get up. “Come on, Scotty!” He took a breath and levered Scotty to a sitting position. 

“Here, let me,” Bones pushed Jim aside and began to pull Scotty to his feet.

“Get out of here!” Jim said to the rest of the team. “Run!” 

“But--” Chekov began to protest.

“Go!” He ordered. And they did.

Together, he and Bones dragged Scotty from the alcove which has begun to fill with the noxious gas. It bit at their ankles and startled Scotty awake. 

“What in the name of--!” He spluttered. 

“Scotty. We’re evacuating, I need you too AAH!” Jim’s order dissolved into a shout of pain when a wave of the fog lapped up his leg. “Run.” He finished.

The three of them took off. Where the fog had touched Jim’s leg, it began twitching. Badly. He glanced behind him to see a tide of pale white mist curling ever closer. Steeling himself, he limped forward. 

“Jim!” Bones called when he noticed Jim was no longer with them. 

“Keep going, I’ll catch up!”  Jim said. And then his legs buckled underneath him and he fell into the cavern below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The average fic has 4 dramatic, suspenseful chase scenes" is actually a statistical error. The average fic has 0 dramatic, suspenseful chase scenes. Atlantis: The Lost Planet, written by someone with no self-control and has over 10,000 dramatic, suspenseful chase scenes is an outlier and should not be counted.
> 
> Also, a fun drinking game: Take a shot every time Jim falls down, passes out, or wakes up suddenly.  
> (Disclaimer: The author does not encourage binge drinking. Please drink responsibly and only if you are of age.)


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlantis is different than Jim imagined. It's much, much better. (It's inhabitants are much more...alive than he anticipated.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Very Important Green Boi is making his debut soon.
> 
>  
> 
> (Spoiler alert: It's Kermit the Frog.)

Jim scrambled to get up, disoriented. His outer shirt was torn beyond repair, or really functional use even. He peeled the scraps off his torso, wincing as they brushed a gash on his shoulder. The cave was cool, and in just his green undershirt, he had to fight off a shiver. At some point during the fall, his glasses fell off. Combined with the darkness of the cavern, he couldn’t see much at all. Jim began to fumble along the ground for his glasses. It only took a few moments before his hand brushed along the cool metal. He fixed them on his face, blinking to allow his eyes adjust, and was surprised by the sight of a speartip inches away from his nose. 

It took him an embarrassingly long time to register what was happening. In what he hoped was a nonthreatening gesture, Jim threw his hands up to the level of his eyes. He let his gaze travel down the shaft of the spear to the being holding it.

His skin was a light green, marked with asymmetrical blue designs. His eyes were fierce and dark, veiled by a thick curtain of bangs. He was  _ beautiful  _ in the way everything on the planet was: ethereal, luminous, and cold. 

The being-- the alien?-- spoke. The collection of syllables and sounds he made were completely, well, alien to Jim. He found it impossible to recall any of the training he ever received on alien interaction. No procedures came to mind. Not the proper greeting, not the Do’s and Do Not’s. He simply said the first thing that came to mind.

“Hello. I’m James T. Kirk of Earth.”

Recognition sparked in the alien’s eyes. “You are from Earth?” He asked. He lowered his spear.

“You speak  _ English _ ?” Jim suddenly wasn’t certain that he’d woken up from his fall. 

“I am also capable of speaking Hebrew or French if one of those are what you prefer.” The alien offered.

“Um...English is fine…” Jim felt dazed.

“Very well. I am S'chn T'gai Spock. You may call me Spock.”

“Jim,” Jim said, extending his hand. 

Spock glanced between Jim’s hand and face several times, at a loss. Jim was about to let his hand fall when Spock apparently made a decision. For the briefest moment, their hands met delicately. Jim tried to tighten his grip but Spock yanked his hand away as if he’d been burned. Jim looked at his hands, remembering the fog. Perhaps it had burned. 

Spock made a noise like a cough. “You are injured,” he said.

Jim glanced at his shoulder where his gash was beginning to bruise. “I’ve had plenty worse, Mr. Spock. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“You misunderstand. I am not worried. I can heal you.” Spock lifted the blue crystal pendant hanging around his neck by a cord. In his hands, it began to glow like the crystals in the cave had before. Jim watched in awe as Spock placed his hands on his shoulder over the pendant. It tingled like pins and needles. When Spock lifted his hands, Jim had to bite back a gasp. There was no grash, there was no bruise. The skin was healthy and pink.

“That’s quite some trick,” Jim commented. “Thank you for that.”

Spock dipped his head. “The crystals give us life and protection. I believe these are to be shared when possible.”

Jim smiled. “Mr. Spock, that is a wonderful sentiment.”

“I am glad that you think so, Mr. Jim.” 

_ Mr. Jim. _

“Just ‘Jim’ is fine.” Jim stifled a laugh. “Or Mr. Kirk, if you must.” 

“Very well,” said Spock. “Jim.”

The way his name sounded when Spock said it, with a certain weight, made him feel a sort of buzzing like the crystal healing his arm.  

“I am certain you must have many questions; I do as well. I will take you to my city. There you may recover from your journey and we can share in knowledge.” Spock held his spear vertically like a walking stick and began to climb over one of the surrounding rocks.

“Wait, wait,” said Jim. “I have a team. I came with...There are others. I can’t just leave them out there. They’ll probably be looking for me.” 

Spock shook his head. “No. It is not safe to roam these caves while the mist is still rising. The crystals will absorb it in time. Then we can return to these caves to search for your teammates.”

“The mist is what I’m worried about. My teammates  _ are _ roaming around the caves!” Jim reached out to touch Spock’s arm, but Spock pulled away.  _ No touching _ , Jim thought.  _ Got it _ . 

“It is illogical to put yourself in danger as well. Your team’s odds of survival are the same regardless of your search for them. However, you significantly decrease your chances of survival if you return to the upper cave system,” Spock explained. 

“But if you were to come with me,” Jim reasoned. “You could be a guide. You know the caves better than I do.”

Spock was unmoved. “It would be considerably more illogical for me to put my life in danger. I will not stop you from returning to the caves before the mist is reabsorbed, but I will not join you.”

“But you just said you believe in sharing life and safety and healing!” Jim said. Spock couldn’t just ignore his beliefs like that. 

Though Spock’s face remained impassive, he did not answer immediately. Jim hoped he was thinking it over. Maybe he would change his mind and help him find his team. 

Spock came to a decision. “You are correct. I do believe in sharing those things.” Jim’s heart leapt hopefully in his chest. Then Spock went on. “When it is  _ logical. _ ” 

Jim’s heart returned to its normal resting place.

Spock began his climb over a rock again, gesturing for Jim to do the same. He saw that there was no convincing this stubborn alien.

That didn’t stop him from giving him a gentle shove on the shoulder as he joined him though. “That’s cold, Mr. Spock.”

Spock glanced at his shoulder where Jim had touched it, but otherwise did not acknowledge the contact. 

“Perhaps,” he said and the two of them fell into silence as they traveled over the rock-strewn and crevice-riddled landscape. 

“So…” Jim began when he grew tired of the silence. “What…” What are you? What species are you? Those sounded like rude things to ask. Jim wasn’t sure how etiquette worked for these aliens, but he didn’t want to take the risk. He settled for a safer question. “How do you know English? And Hebrew and French as well, I  suppose. What I mean is, how did you come to learn Earth languages?” 

He half expected Spock to ignore his question but was pleasantly surprised. “Vulcans have our roots on Earth. There is no surviving record of this, but it is known. I myself have a more direct ancestor from Earth. We have considerable knowledge of Earth technology and human customs, including languages.”

“So you’re a Vulcan?” Jim asked.

Spock hesitated before replying. “Mostly.” His tone did not invite further inquiries.

At this point, they began to climb a steep path up an otherwise sheer cliff face. Jim sincerely hoped his team had escaped the mist. They were a clever bunch. It was very likely they escaped...unless they  _ had  _ gone looking for him. Guilt wedged its way into his chest. 

Spock walked ahead of him, long braid swinging about his waist. Jim took a moment to admire the alien-- the Vulcan. His skin was green, but other than that, he could not have been more different from the image of the iconic “little green man.” He was shaped and proportioned much like a man, and not an unattractive one at that. His features were sharper in his slanting eyebrows and pointed ears. Jim was also fascinated by his jewelry. Gilded bands adorned his biceps and wrists and a gold hoop glittered from his ear when he turned his head to look at Jim. 

“We are nearing the city. I should warn you that our leader is not a tolerant man. He often views outsiders as a threat to our culture. Your best chance at survival is to stay quiet and allow me to speak your case,” said Spock. 

“ _ Survival _ ?” Jim burst out.

“Yes. It is unlikely you would be attacked or condemned to death, as we are a peaceful people, but it is best not to exclude the possibility that your life could be at stake,” Spock explained in the same calm voice. “After all, our sehlats need to eat something.”

Jim wasn’t sure what this sehlat thing was, but he got the idea he didn’t want to be on the business end of one. And...wait just a minute. Jim swore he saw the corner of Spock’s mouth twitch. 

“You’re... _ messing _ with me!” Jim accused.

Spock’s face was a schooled picture of innocence when he turned his head again. “Me? Jim, that is a bold accusation.”

He  _ was  _ messing with him. 

Well, two could play at that game. 

“Well, pardon me for calling your innocence into question then,” he said, adopting a lofty tone. “But I should hope for your people’s sake that they don’t decided to condemn me to death. You see, I’m a bit like royalty, back on Earth. I should hate for your people to have to answer to all of Earth’s prowess.”

“That would be unfortunate indeed,” Spock said. “But I can foresee an even more unfortunate possibility.”

“What’s that?” Jim asked.

“It is the possibility that you have forgotten already that I have a thorough knowledge of Earth, including its political structure. Namely, it’s lack of monarchies.” Spock wasn’t smiling exactly, but amusement was written all over his face. 

Jim chuckled. “How do you know it hasn’t changed since last you knew about it?”

“I suppose I do not. However, one fact still remains.” Spock stopped and turned to face him fully. “Any royalty would have glasses of higher quality.” He flipped his hair over his shoulder as he turned back. 

Jim grinned in amazement. He was just  _ sassed  _ by an  _ alien _ .

They had been making their way through an almost perfectly round tunnel, but now Jim spotted a dim light ahead. They emerged onto a ledge overlooking a valley. The air above them ascended seemingly forever into darkness, but the valley was lit by a city nestled in the middle. 

The city was beautiful. Gazing at it, Jim felt his jaw drop. Spires of glowing blue crystal rose up among domed buildings of smooth stone. It was surrounded by plant life like nowhere else on the planet. Creatures somewhere between birds and lizards glided from canopy to canopy. Their scales—or were they feathers, Jim wasn’t sure— glinted with an array of colors in the soft ambient light. The tree-like plants were just as breathtaking and just as alien. Wide purple and blue leaves extended from smooth silvery disks that functioned like tree limbs. 

Sulu would love to see these, Jim knew. He was always a bit crazy over plants. Jim remembered when they first arrived on the planet and how disappointed Sulu had been by the absence of plants. Jim pushed down his guilt. He  _ would _ find Sulu and he  _ would  _ show him this oasis of flora.

 

Jim felt exposed entering the city. Not as in underdressed; in his tanktop, uniform pants, and boots, he was the most dressed in the city. No, he felt  _ judged _ . The Vulcans were a reserved people and were presumably above openly staring at unfamiliar strangers. However, Jim could feel the burning curiosity in their furtive glances. Most avoided direct eye contact with him. Jim has no such reservations and observed the people he passed. Every single one, he noted, wore a crystal pendant identical to the one Spock wore around his neck.

He started to ask about it but was cut off by a sharp look.                            

“It truly is wisest for you to save your questions until later,” Spock advised.  

They made their way to the center, and highest point, of the city. There stood a courtyard with a luxurious throne. In it, a man sat with his eyes closed, apparently deep in meditation. 

“Sarek. My king.” Spock bowed. 

Lazily the man opened his eyes. “Spock. My son.”

“ _ Son _ ?” Jim said incredulously. Spock sent him another silencing glare. 

“Why have you brought an outworlder into the heart of our city?” The king (Spock’s father, apparently!) asked. Jim straightened up, trying to appear respectable. 

“This is Jim Kirk. I discovered him injured from the cave mist. He is of Earth.” Spock put emphasis on the word ‘Earth.’ “He may be able to help us.”

“Help with what?” Jim whispered to Spock, who nudged him dispraisingly. 

“We do not accept nor do we need help from outworlders,” Sarek said sharply. “He must be removed from the city. You should not have brought him here, Spock.”

“Can we not offer him refuge for one day? To remove him from the city now is to condemn him to death,” said Spock.

The king closed his eyes. “Very well. He has one day.”

Spock replied in an unfamiliar language that Jim assumed was Vulcan. Whatever he had said, it sparked a reaction from the king. 

From what Jim had seen, Vulcans hid their emotions well and the king was no exception. Neither his tone nor his expression betrayed it, but his anger simmered tangibly in the air between him and his son. Jim took a step back. 

Jim got the feeling that the beginning of this conversation had been in Enlgish for his benefit and feared what was being said now that he could not understand. To human ears, it was a perfectly calm conversation but to Jim it felt a bit like a noose tightening around his neck. He trained his eyes on Spock’s face; though his expression was stoic, it wasn’t the disciplined blank expression of the king. Plus it was less intimidating to look at the person who wanted you alive. 

Jim let their words fade into background noise and watched Spock as he talked. His eyebrows jumped and furrowed as he talked, his mouth became a fixed line when he was listening to his father speak. His eyes, dark and fathomless, caught occasional flashes of indiscernible emotion. It was beautiful in a way, like watching shadows flit through a deep ocean.

His delicate facade erupted as he suddenly raised his voice, cutting off the king mid-sentence. Dead silence rang through the courtyard. Sarek regarded Spock with the same expression he always had, but it felt different. 

“Mr. Kirk.” Jim nearly jumped out of his skin when Sarek addressed him. “It is for the best that you leave this city. Immediately.” 

Jim looked to Spock for help. What happened to one day? Jim had none of his supplies, no tent, no food, no  _ water _ . His heart sank as he realized he’d lost his journal as well. Spock studiously did not look at him.  

Sarek held up his hand in salute. “Live long and prosper, Jim Kirk. But do it outside of this city.” 

Jim swallowed hard. “I’ll...I’ll go then.” His journey out of the city felt much longer than his journey in. 

Once the gates slammed-- slammed, really, was that necessary?-- behind him, Jim sat on an outcrop of ruins. Inside the city was clean stable but in the surrounding forest, Jim noticed collapsed pillars and suggestions of former buildings. There was some writing carved into the rock he sat on. He glanced over it, lazily translating. It was only a fraction of a larger writing, probably a prayer or something similar. 

“...Atlantis our home and … soul (heart? center?)...something about protection...we give thanks,” Jim read out loud. He sighed. Much of the writing was worn away, and Jim had always had a hard time translating figurative language.

There was still so much he’d wanted to learn about the Vulcans! How had they come to Atlantis? What were their crystal pendants for? Jim had come this far, he wasn’t leaving until he learned more. 

Standing, he announced to nobody in particular, “I’m James T. Kirk. I’m going to find Spock and I am  _ not  _ leaving without answers.” He nodded in satisfaction and let out an embarrassing squeak when an arm snaked around his neck and a hand pressed firmly against his mouth. He tried to wrench away only to relax when a familiar voice sounded in his ear. 

“I am S'chn T'gai Spock. I have found Jim and will not leave without answers,” Spock imitated him. 

“Spock,” Jim chuckled as he released him. “What are you doing here?”

“The same as you. I am looking for answers,” said Spock. “I brought you supplies. Come along.”

“Oh. Thank you, Mr. Spock.” Jim accepted the proffered sack. “Where are you going?”

Spock paused. “I believe you wanted to search for your lost teammates. Is that still your intent?”

“Yes but-- are you coming with me?” Jim asked hesitantly.

“I am,” Spock said. Jim waited for an elaboration, but it didn’t come. 

“You’re leaving your city?” Jim asked.

“I thought it wisest to take an absence for the time being.” Spock didn’t say specifically why, but Jim got the feeling it had to do with his father. “Come now. We can find a place to rest for now. When it’s lighter, we can return by the path we came.”

“Right, retrace my steps,” Jim agreed.

Spock led them through the colorful forest to a small hollow covered in a spongy moss-like plant. A small cluster of crystals protruded in the middle, glowing dimly. 

“You can sleep here for now. When the crystals reach full brightness, it will be safe to return to the caves,” Spock directed. 

Jim was suddenly struck with a bone-deep weariness he hadn’t been aware of. “What about you? Are you going to sleep?” He asked.

Spock shook his head. “Vulcans do not need as much sleep as humans. I will wake you when it is time to go.”

Jim fell back against the soft plants. They were just as soft as they looked, a cool and smooth surface against his skin. Jim sleep overcame Jim with the gentle light of the crystals against his eyelids and the sound of Spock rustling nearby in his ears. 

 

The caves looked much different when they were lit. The entire circular tunnel that they passed through before coming to the valley was made of the crystal. It reminded Jim of funhouses at carnivals he’d visited as a kid in Iowa. He said as much to Spock, who didn’t grace him with a reply. Unlike their travels from the night before, Jim could generally maintain a good-natured conversation. Though Spock was, as he’d said before, well informed about human culture and Earth in general, he didn’t know Jim in particular. It was kind of fun! They played their own version of 20 Questions with Jim asking questions about Vulcan culture and Atlantis and Spock asking questions about Jim’s mission and life. 

“So what  _ do _ the crystals do?” Jim asked. “How do they work?”   
“You asked two questions in one, Jim,” Spock pointed out. “But I will allow it, if I may ask an additional question.”

“Sure,” Jim laughed.

“The crystals are our life force. They are our power and life support. It’s because of the crystals that we are able to live here. They filter the air, they heal wounds, they extend our lifespans. There is any number of things the crystals can  _ do _ . As for how they work...that is somewhat of a mystery even to us. Vulcans are not native to Atlantis. The construction of this city predates our very existence. We believe, through observation and logic, that the crystals are powered by a single strong lifeforce...and a sacrifice.”    

“A  _ sacrifice _ ? You mean someone has to  _ die  _ to keep the rest of you alive?” Jim was horrified.

Spock’s eyes flashed with brief astonishment. “Die? No. It does not have to be a sacrifice of a  _ life _ , though I suppose should it become necessary, that would be a simple way to provide the crystals power.”

They entered the area of rocks of crevices, littered with fallen stalactites and evidence of past collapses.

“What sacrifice is powering them now?” Jim asked, curious. 

“I believe that is your fourth question in a row,” Spock said, quirking an eyebrow. Jim could tell he was only teasing, though when he answered a moment later. “You are not the first human to arrive on our planet. There was one human who arrived before you. Her lifeforce was strong and she sacrificed the life she knew before, on Earth, to remain on Atlantis.”

“Why’d she do that?” Jim asked.

Spock didn’t answer immediately and Jim worried that he truly had crossed his question limit. Then he spoke up. “I am unsure, Jim. This happened well before I was born.” 

Jim thought about that for a moment. Giving up life on Earth to live on Atlantis. He would miss Iowa, sometimes. He’d really miss the food. But there was something alluring about the Vulcan city. Jim briefly wondered if he were in a position to, would he make the same sacrifice?

Jim slid down the backside of a particularly steep rock and gasped in surprise. “My journal!” 

Spock appeared behind him with curiosity. 

“I thought I lost it when I fell! Well, I guess I did, but I  _ found _ it! Spock, this is the journal that got me here!” Jim held it up in excitement.

Spock pulled it from his hands, running his eyes over the worn pages. An expression of awe replaced his stoic one. 

“Isn’t it amazing? It must be beyond ancient. It’s really amazing that it’s in as great shape as it is. And it’s even more lucky that there’s people like me who can still  _ read  _ it--”

“You can  _ read  _ this?” Spock asked. Intensity laced his tone. 

“Um, yes, that’s how I got here. I can’t speak the language, the sounds were lost to time unfortunately, and I’m a little rusty when it comes to the more artistic writing, but--”

“Read it,” Spock ordered, holding the journal in front of Jim’s face. Jim leaned back

He cleared his throat, taking the book. “Um, alright. ...The Leviathan, the guardian-- or protector, this word could mean either one-- of Atlantis. As long as the soul-- or heart, or center, I saw this word earlier and I’m still not sure which one it means-- beats--Oh! I guess in this case it means heart. As long as the heart of Atlantis beats, the guardian of Atlantis will protect the gates.”

“Yes,” Spock said quietly. “The Leviathan will attack anything without a crystal that tries to get into the caves.” 

“I noticed,” Jim said. Unfortunately, he hadn’t known to expect the guardian would still be functional. He’d figured the “Heart of Atlantis” had stopped beating long ago.

“You can read Atlantean…” Spock muttered. “You must come with me.”

“What? No. I am not going  _ anywhere else _ , Mr. Spock, until I know that my team is alive.” Or dead, he supposed, but he refused to entertain that possibility. 

Spock’s eyes were filled with frustration. He schooled his features and bowed his head. “Very well.” 

“Our campsite was in an alcove just beyond the rock bridge,” Jim offered. “We can start there.”

“I know a fast route to that area,” Spock said and took off. Jim sprinted after him, struggling to keep up. Vulcans were  _ fast _ . Jim finally caught up to find spock waiting next to a stream, trickling weakly from a tunnel. 

“If we climb through here, it will bring us up a layer. From there we will be able to descend near the alcove.” Spock immediately began to climb into the tunnel. 

Jim glanced inside. The walls were shiny (and likely slick). Inside it was dark and ascended sharply. “Isn’t there another route?”

“Yes, Jim.” Spock’s voice echoed from the tunnel. “But you will find them to be much more perilous than this one.”

Cursing, Jim followed Spock into the tunnel. 

“Did you say  _ more perilous _ ?” Jim asked after the third time he nearly slipped. Normally, Jim loved water slides. He’d loved walking up slides as a child. Maybe it was that he grew up, maybe it was the threat of imminent death, but he found climbing up  _ this  _ slide much less enjoyable. 

“We could have scaled the outside,” Spock answered somewhere ahead of and above him. Right. Jim thought about that sacrifice again and decided that no, he would not make it.

When they finally reached the top, Spock had to help haul Jim out of the steep tunnel onto a plateau. There was a draft up here which was a nice change from the stuffy humidity of the tunnel that fogged up his glasses. Jim shivered. He looked around and blanched. They were incredibly high. It was like a natural skyscraper and from here he could see the layout of the cavern. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jim said breathily.

Spock seemed pleased. “I have always enjoyed this view as well.” He let Jim enjoy it for a moment. “We can get onto the path down here. It is only twenty feet or so and not a difficult climb. I made it many times when I was younger.”

“Right,” Jim said following him. It was always intimidating looking down from a height, but Spock clambered over the edge with a near effortlessness. Not wanting to be left behind, Jim began his descent. 

‘Easy’ is not a word Jim would use to describe the climb. But then, he didn’t have the apparent Vulcan strength Spock had. He was out of breath as he reached the bottom where Spock was waiting. 

“The alcove you were describing is not far from here. Come along.” Spock began to walk off only to stop when he noticed Jim wasn’t following.

“Let me catch my breath,” Jim gasped out. Spock made an impatient noise and marched back over to him. With hand on his arms, he pulled Jim close “”What are you--” Jim started. Then Spock pressed the pendant hanging around his neck to Jim’s chest. The familiar tingling sensation washed over him. His heart rate returned to normal and his breaths felt much more filling. 

Jim smiled. He looked up to thank Spock only to realize their faces were only inches apart. He felt his face flush. Part of him wanted to move away, but he felt trapped by Spock’s dark intense gaze. Finally Spock stepped away, letting the pendant fall back onto his own chest. 

“There. Now come along,” Spock said.

Jim gulped and nodded wordlessly. Despite Spock’s healing, he still felt a little breathless, though he doubted it had anything to do with the climb he just made. 

He shook his head to clear it. He had to focus on finding his team now. Figuring out...whatever that was...could come later. Once they found the alcove, they would also have more supplies and maybe some communicators. Jim was no technical genius, but with the technology in their bags, he might be able to jury rig a radio. 

Ahead of him, Spock stopped suddenly and Jim nearly ran into him. “Here is the alcove,” he said.

He had entered it from another direction with his team, but it was unmistakably the same place. But it was entirely empty.

“The tents!” Jim exclaimed. “The supplies! Everything is gone!” 

“It would appear so,” Spock agreed.

“Could someone have stolen them? Or something?” Jim felt a sort of panic rise in his chest. He was cool under pressure, sure, but that didn’t stop him from feeling the panic. 

Spock shook his head. “No. There is nobody else. Nothing can permanently inhabit this section of the caves. The crystals’ power waxes and wanes. At their lowest power, a mist rises and fills the caves. Anything trapped in it becomes paralyzed and falls to the cavern floor.”

“Where does this mist come from?” Jim asked. Was it alive? Was it a chemical build up in the cave?

“It is from a lifeform that lives on the deepest part of the cavern floor. The lifeform is akin to earth’s plants or molds. By excreting the mist, it is able to trap prey to digest when it falls to the cave floor.” Spock answered. Sulu would have been over the moon to learn about it, Jim thought. 

“Carnivorous plants are the only permanent residents then,” Jim said. “So what happened to our campsite?”

“The answer to that is simple, Jim.” Spock raised his eyebrows. “Your team is alive.”

Alive! “You’re right. They must have survived the mist and come back to get their supplies!” Relief washed over Jim. They were alive! 

The only problem was that now, Jim had no clue how he was going to find them. 

“Now. Jim,” Spock began. “I believe that I have been helpful to your mission. I ask that now you return the favor.”

That sounded fair. “What do you want me to do?” He asked.

“Now that you have seen that your team must be alive, and have a high chance of continuing to be so, there is no need for haste. In addition, neither one of us has a specific location to continue the search. I would like for you to come with me to translate some text.” Spock spoke quickly as if expecting Jim to cut him off.

Jim thought his request was reasonable enough. Spock hadn’t needed to help him at all, and yet he did. Jim didn’t mind helping him in return. 

“Sure, Spock,” he said gently. “You’ve helped me more than I could have asked for. I’m happy to help you.”

A delicate sort of joy lit up behind Spock’s dark eyes.

 

The last place Jim expected to be taken to read something was underwater in an already underwater cave. He and Spock stood at the edge of a dark pool. Jim could see crystals glowing deep under the water. Jim was a decent swimmer, at least he had been several years ago, the last time he visited a pool. Plus, the water looked sinister and he wasn’t quite sure he trusted.

He looked up to tell Spock as much and felt his mouth go dry. Normally, Spock wore a dark green wrap around his waist that fell to his knees. Now it lay in a head at his feet leaving him in...considerably  _ less _ . 

“Are you ready?” Spock asked, unconcerned.

Hesitation forgotten, Jim nodded emphatically. Together they dove into the dark water. Like running and climbing, Spock had the clear advantage, but Jim surprised himself by actually being able to keep pace with the Vulcan. That was, until he lungs began to protest and he wondered if Spock would remember that Jim needed to come up for air. Thankfully, he soon pulled them into a small cave with a bubble of air at the top. Jim gasped in. 

“How much farther?” He panted.

“Not far,” Spock answered cryptically. With that, he dove back under the water. Jim would have liked another moment to recover, but there was no slowing Spock down. 

They came to what Jim thought was a massive stalagmite at first. Then he realized that no, it was a pillar with intricate carvings on it. Spock gestured him over to a certain section where there was an illustration carved into the rock with the text. Before Jim could get a good look at it, he was out of breath. 

After taking another breath, he returned to the sunken monument. He had to read quickly, translating as he went. They went on like that, catching their breath, reading and translating, and repeat, until Jim was exhausted and Spock wasn’t faring much better.

They emerged back onto the shore, panting. Jim sprawled out on the cave floor. They hadn’t discovered much that Spock hadn’t already known when he reported what he’d read when they came up for air. Still, Spock listened to his translations with only the thinnest veneer to mask his interest. 

“Any chance,” Jim panted. “We can just...rest here...for the night?”

Spock was already sitting up, but seemed tired as well. “I find no issue with it.”

Jim turned onto his side to watch as Spock pulled an ornate comb shaped like claws through his long hair. When he sat, the tips brushed against the ground. Droplets ran off into a growing puddle around him. He made a face when he encountered a particularly difficult knot.

“Do you want help?” Jim asked.

Spock looked surprised. “Help? With what?”

“I could…” Jim cleared his throat. The more he thought about it the more ridiculous the offer sounded. “I could comb your hair for you.”

“Contact is a very intimate thing for Vulcans,” Spock cautioned. 

“Right, sorry, I, uh, shouldn’t have offered--” Jim felt embarrassment rise in him. 

“I did not say no.” Now  _ Spock _ was looking a little embarrassed. “I merely wanted you to understand what you were offering before I accepted. If the offer still stands.”

Color rose to Jim’s face. ‘Intimate’ could mean many things. The way Spock had said it, it didn’t seem to be anything impolite, just that: intimate. 

“I trust you, Jim,” Spock said. He proffered the comb.

Jim took it. 

Settingly behind the Vulcan, he took the section of hair Spock had been combing into his hair. It was surprisingly silky. He smiled and began to pull the comb through the bottom of the section. 

“Besides, hand contact is much...more, to Vulcans. So this is not much.” Spock spoke up after a few moments of silent brushing. 

Oh. “Oh,” said Jim. “You mean like when we met…” He trailed off, blushing again. 

“Indeed.” He sounded more amused than anything, so Jim decided not to worry about it. They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

There they sat, Vulcan and human, an unlikely pair, in cave on an unlikely planet. It was peaceful, in a way, how unlikely it was, Jim thought. Either fate had really wanted it to happen, or no force in the universe could have stopped it.

 

Jim was ashamed to admit that in his time running around with Spock, translating ruins, he nearly forgot about looking for his team. 

Together they discovered spores the lit up when you touched them, ancient graffiti that translated roughly to “my girlfriend is a jerk” and another one, not far away that regaled the love story between two Atlanteans, and yet another that Jim refused to translate. (And if he subtly added his own sappy message of his own, well, nobody had to know.) Once, Jim had fallen off a ledge, only to be caught by Spock below. Another time, Spock was deep in contemplation and didn’t notice that he’d wandered into the path of unstable rocks. Jim had pulled him to safety just in time. 

Spock had become much more comfortable with casual touching, which Jim was grateful for. He became used to the feeling of Spock by his side, close enough to brush arms with, always there when Jim turned his head to make a comment or explain what a carving meant. Spock had picked up quite a bit of Atlantean from both observation and Jim’s teachings. In the evenings (or what they treated as evenings; the light was constant in the cave), Jim would pull out his journal and translate a page or so with Spock. In a weird way, it was the most content he had ever been. 

They were settled down after one such evening when Jim remembered. “My team!” Next to him, Spock sat up in surprise. “We need to find my team!” 

“We are searching the caves,” Spock said. “We do not have any leads on them, unless you have one in mind.”

Maybe he did. “The pod. We came here in a pod. The team might have made their way back to the pod. I don’t imagine they could leave, because the leviathan is still out there, but they might still be at the pod.” Jim’s heart began racing. Why hadn’t he thought of that earlier? It was the-- to use Spock’s word-- logical place for them to have gone. “We have to find them.”

“Right now?” Spock asked. Jim knew he’d slept last night and he usually didn’t sleep two whole nights in a row.

“Why not? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep now, and you slept last night. I even remember the way,” Jim said. Spock still looked hesitant. “Is there something wrong, Spock?”

“Wrong? No, Jim,” said Spock. But he seemed troubled. 

“Alright, then let’s go.” Jim stood up and grabbed his sack with his journal and supplies Spock had brought to him. Traveling light was surprisingly nice. Spock looked reluctant, but he got up and followed Jim. 

The journey back through the caves was a bit of a blur to Jim. He vaguely noticed as they passed the alcove where he’d last seen his team. (He definitely noticed when they crossed the narrow rock bridge. That was memorable.) There were some smaller branching paths from the main cave tunnel, but Jim remembered the straight shot that he originally made with his team. The clusters of glowing crystals growing less frequent. The sound of dripping water growing louder. And-- Jim almost didn’t dare think it-- the sound of voices. He ran around a bend in the cave and it was undeniable, he was getting close. 

Finally he emerged into a wider area in the cave and there they were. Chekov, Sulu, and Chapel sat in the center of the room, playing what appeared to be marbles with small round rocks. Uhura and Scotty sat near the entrance of the beached pod. Bones was presumably inside the pod, as Jim didn’t see him. They didn’t see Jim at first, but he was content just to see them alive. 

Chekov was the first to look up and do a double take. “ _ Mr. Kirk! _ ” He gasped. Immediately every other head shot up and before Jim knew it, he was being crushed in a five-person hug and nearly deafened by their shouts of joy. 

Bones appeared in the doorway of the pod. “What’s all this ruckus, I  _ told  _ you--  _ JIM! _ ” He ran and threw himself into the hug, effectively knocking them all over. Jim coughed as he was crushed by their weight but laughed despite himself. His team was here and they were alive. 

Suddenly the weight vanished off him. His teammates eyes were fixed on a point behind Jim, their stances defensive.

“Who are  _ you _ ?” Bones demanded. Jim turned to see Spock standing in the entrance of the cave room, watching the reunion. 

Jim dusted himself off and stood. “Squad Alpha,” he said. “This is Spock. Spock, this is Squad Alpha: Ms. Uhura and Scotty in the red, Ms. Chapel and Dr. McCoy in the blue.” Each of them waved uncertainly as they were introduced. “And this is Mr. Chekov and Mr. Sulu.” Jim placed a hand on their shoulders respectively.

“His name is Spot?” Chekov loudly whispered to Jim. 

Bones lightly smacked him over the head. “His name’s  _ Spock _ .”  

“Indeed,” said Spock. “I am a Vulcan of Atlantis.” He held his hand up in the same salute Sarek had made as he sent Jim off. Jim  _ hoped  _ it was a salute and not a rude gesture. 

“How did you...come across him, Jim?” Bones asked. 

“Spock saved my life,” Jim said with a smile. He waved Spock over. Spock stayed put. Whatever. “After I fell into the cavern, Spock healed me and brought me back to his city. Unfortunately, I wasn’t terribly welcome, so we’ve been exploring the caves, looking for you guys since.” That wasn’t  _ entirely _ true, but his team didn’t need to know about the time he didn’t spend looking for them. 

“Well,” Uhura said. “It looks like you found us. And not a moment too soon! We just managed to make contact with the ship.”

“Really? May I talk to them?” Jim asked. He tried to make eye contact with Spock to check that he was okay. However, he was a little preoccupied talking to an enthusiastic Chekov. Jim smiled. He would be okay for now.

Jim ducked into the pod to where Uhura and Scotty apparently had dismantled all of the communicators and half the radio and reassembled them in a Frankenstein’s monster mess.  But it worked when he pressed the right button and said, “This is James T. Kirk of Squad Alpha reporting in.”

The message back was just a recording of the crew on board the orbiting ship cheering.

 

After recounting his adventure to the crew aboard the ship, they made plans to send another several (new) squads to the planet to see the planet and make arrangements for negotiations for the exchange of knowledge and goods. Jim explained how the crystals granted Atlanteans immunity to the leviathan and other dangers of their submerged world. With Spock’s crystal on board, their ships wouldn’t be attacked and they could safely enter and exit the cave system. Jim was grinning ear to ear by the time he exited the pod. Finally, their mission was back on track. 

Spock was considerably less pleased when Jim introduced the idea to him. “My father was unreceptive to one outworlder. I imagine he will be much less understanding of more of you,” said Spock. 

“Or he might see there’s  _ logic _ in reasoning with humans! C’mon, Spock, your people have dealt with humans before. This is the next step,” Jim pleaded. 

Spock started blankly in response.

“How about this,” Jim started. “You help us get humans into the caves. We can stay here and be safe from the leviathan and from the mist. I don’t think the mist would reach this far, right? Then we can move into the forest surrounding the city. You can go into the city, bring news of us outworlders, and those who want to meet us can make the decision to leave the city. No human has to come in.”

Spock looked like he might be considering that.

“And,” Jim added. “You never know, we might be able to help you.” Jim still wasn’t sure what ‘help’ Spock thought Jim could offer the city, but apparently that did the trick.

Spock sighed deeply. “Fine,” he conceded. “I will act as an escort for a few squads from your ship. After that I will inform the city that those who wish to meet with your crew, may meet them in the forest. That will be the extent of my assistance.”

Jim still wasn’t sure why Spock was so hesitant about this. He’d seemed enthusiastic about meeting other humans before. He’d seemed to condemn his father’s view on looking down on outsiders. However, he didn’t want to press his luck on the help that Spock was offering.

He reached out and lightly touched Spock’s wrist. Spock looked up in surprise and Jim met his gaze intensely. “Spock. Thank you.” He tried to communicate the depth of his gratitude, how it was is his dream to be the man that discovered Atlantis for the human race, how Spock the only one capable of making his dream come true. 

The guarded look in Spock’s eyes faded, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. “I trust you; you already know this, Jim.” And he did. 

In the morning, they began their preparations. The pod was loaded back up and checked to be sure it was still sea-worthy. It was a bit low-power having sat in a cave for days on end, but they had enough to get out. On the ship, several pods with new squads had been assembled and were awaiting the order to launch. 

Jim spent most of his morning with Uhura, talking back and forth to the ship to make sure everything was in order. Crew members popped in on occasion. 

“I never thought I would say this, but I can’t wait to get back on this ship,” Bones laughed when he came in to check how soon they would be relaunching. “And once we complete our mission here, we can go back  _ home _ .”

_ Home _ . Earth. Jim sighed. He missed seeing the blue sky overhead and eating warm meals. He missed...What else did he miss? Not his apartment, certainly not his old job. He had no family to speak of...But he missed the feeling of Home. He missed having a place and knowing it was his. He could look forward to that once they finished their mission here.

“Yeah,” Jim agreed. “Can’t wait.”

A movement in the doorway caught his attention. He hadn’t noticed Spock was standing there until he turned to leave. Something was wrong. 

“One moment,” Jim excused himself and followed Spock out of the pod in time to see him disappearing into the mouth of the narrower cave. Chasing him down, Jim called, “Spock!”

Spock stopped and turned, expression blank. “Yes, Jim?” He said flatly. 

“Why are you leaving? We’re launching soon,” said Jim. 

“I had not heard,” Spock said in the same flat voice. “I will return to the pod then.”

“Spock, wait.” Jim caught his arm. “Something’s bothering you. Tell me what it is, maybe I can help.”

Spock’s eyes turned more guarded than ever. “Nothing is bothering me. That would be...illogical. And I am quite certain you could not help me as your stay on the planet is temporary--”

Jim gasped, realizing. “Mr. Spock, are you upset about me leaving?”

Spock quickly looked away, pulling his arm out of Jim’s grasp. Bingo. 

“Oh, Mr. Spock,” Jim couldn’t help the laughter in his voice. His ‘emotionless’ Vulcan was having feelings because he didn’t want Jim to go. He felt his heart flutter pleasantly at that. “Spock, if this mission is successful, we might be able to form a stronger link between Atlantis and Earth. I could stay here until the next mission. Then maybe you could see Earth. It wouldn’t be logical to cut off our relationship now.”

“No indeed,” Spock agreed. It was always hard to tell, but Jim thought he could hear relief in his voice. 

 

The escorting was a success. The leviathan reared its head when they propelled by, but otherwise stayed put. Spock sat next to Jim at the helm as they returned with about six other pods into the matrix of caves. 

“The mist is due to rise soon, but likely not until this evening,” Spock informed Jim. “As long as we move quickly, we should reach the forest outside the city by then.”

Jim nodded, bumping reassuringly against Spock’s arm. The crew was looking around in awe as they entered the caves. The crystals were still lit, but Jim could tell they were dimming. At some point, the caves had become familiar to him. He recognized as they were nearing the bridge and called a word of caution to the crew. Squad Alpha looked at each other knowingly. Jim hurried them past the alcove, not wanting to be there when the mist began to rise. 

“This is where he fell,” Jim told the people around them as they passed where he’d fallen into the chasm and subsequently met Spock. It wasn’t as bad a memory as he would have thought. 

Jim let Spock take the lead from here, because he was not so familiar with the route to the city. He stood near Spock as they walked, comforted by his familiar presence. 

They had to fall into single file as they entered the very dimly glowing tunnel. The mist was sure to start rising deep within the cave soon. As their procession emerged onto the ledge outside the tunnel, people gasped in delight. Jim smiled. He knew the feeling. He gazed at the beauty of the Vulcan city as they descended towards it. Spock drifted away from his side.

The gates were in sight. A sense of dread washed over Jim. Something was wrong. Something was  _ wrong _ . He whipped around. Behind him, the procession had stopped and become more of a mob. Many of them held phasers at their sides. Worst of all, they had Spock, two crewmembers restraining each limb, and someone had a hand over his mouth.

A figure stepped out of the crowd. 

“I cannot  _ thank you _ enough, Mr. Kirk,” the captain said with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I lied about Kermit the Frog... Though T'Imrek would make great Vulcan name. 
> 
> Yeah so I this chapter alone is the length I originally thought the entire length of the fic was going to be. I'm verbose.   
> The next chapter will be up tomorrow. I wrote all day today to get this chapter out. I wanted to just finish it up, but I decided 11k for one chapter was Too Much. So 2 days late, we will get the 4th and final chapter. Be on the lookout for that!!


	4. Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion! Things will be revealed, choices will be presented, sacrifices will be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So did I NEED to make the captain Mr. Evil McGee? No. Did I anyway? Yes. Why? One word: Aesthetic.  
> His villain backstory is that I was too lazy to give him a name and this made him bitter and heartless. Now he can deliver some SPICY villain lines.
> 
> Also fair warning, the chapter does get....pretty dark (pun intended)

“I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Kirk. Truly, this was an amazing display.” The captain, dressed like a normal crew member stepped out of the mob. “Flawlessly executed. I am not an easy man to impress, but I have to give it to you. Let’s hear it for Mr. Kirk!” The crew gave weak, sarcastic applause.           

The captain made way over to where Spock was restrained. Spock didn’t look at him. No, his gaze was fixed on Jim, burning with unmistakable betrayal. It was like a knife twisting in Jim’s chest. Surely Spock couldn’t think he actually _knew_ about this? Surely Spock didn’t think Jim _planned_ this. Jim shook his head in dismay, words failing.

The captain picked up the crystal pendant off Spock’s chest, turning it in his fingers. “To think, so much trouble could have been solved with this one little rock,” he muttered. Then, with a harsh yank, he snapped the cord. Jim flinched, but Spock didn’t so much as twitch or move his gaze where it was boring into Jim.

Finally Jim found his words again. “C-Captain! What _is_ this? What you are you _doing_?”

The captain swang the pendant as he turned towards Jim. “Hm? It’s business, Mr. Kirk. You must understand.”

“This isn’t business, this is _violence!_ ” Jim couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Oh, Mr. Kirk, you’re a linguist. Don’t you know that they’re synonyms?” The captain tsked. “Now, if you would be so kind as to join us, we can get what we came for and be back on Earth as rich men in no time.” Sensing his resistance he added, “At the very least, get out of our way.”

“No!” Jim yelled. “I can’t let you. You don’t know what you’re doing! The crystals are their lifesource! If you take them, you’ll kill everyone!”

“You should have thought of that before you led us right to their city, hm?” The captain said. “Now, if you will _please_ get out of our way--”

“How can you all stand for this?” Jim accused the crowd. “You can’t all be this heartless!” Nobody met his gaze. He frantically searched the crowd, spotting squad alpha huddled off to the side. “Bones, you’re a _doctor_! What happened to ‘do no harm?’” Bones opened his mouth, closed it again, and then fixed his eyes on the ground. “Chekov?” Chekov slid to hide behind Sulu. “Mr. Sulu, without the crystal, these plants will die--”

“Yes, yes, very touching,” the captain cut him off. “Come on, we haven’t got all day.” The crowd began to surge forward, Spock paraded in the front.

Even if nobody else would stand with him, Jim knew what he had to do. He ran full tilt at Spock’s captors, punching one of them in the gut and wrenching another’s hands off Spock. With one arm free, Spock joined in the melee. It was a confusing mess of limbs and shouts. Jim gasped as the air was knocked out of him but his responding flail connected satisfyingly with someone’s unfortunately breakable nose.

“You-- for _god’s sake_ , you have _phasers_ , BLAST HIM!” The captain ordered.

Before Jim could so much as duck, a shock went through his body and his world went dark.    

  

His vision came back in painful flickers of consciousness, before it came crashing back with finality. Jim sat bolt up, heart racing.

“Oh thank god,” Bones sighed in relief next to him.

Jim snapped his head to the side, feeling white hot anger flood him. Bones had the audacity to look surprised when Jim tackled him.

“You! Traitor!” Jim shouted, wrestling him. “How _could_ you?”

“Jim...no…” Bones gasped out, trying to escape.

Jim was pulled back by arms under his shoulder. Uhura and Chapel restrained him as he flailed. The light was too bright and everything was too _much._

“Breathe, Mr. Kirk,” Chapel encouraged and slowly Jim began to calm down. “Why don’t you take a seat?” Jim didn’t so much sit as his legs collapsed out from underneath him and he was piled onto the ground.

Bones kneeled next to him. “Jim, I am so sorry. I knew it wasn’t right. I didn’t want to go along with it, but I was outnumbered. I would never let a city die-- even a city of aliens-- just for some cash. It ain’t right.”

Jim tried to sit up again, but was immediately gently pressed down by Bones and Chapel. Bones tsked, “Take it easy there, Jim. You nearly died. I had to give you a drug cocktail to get your heart beating again. It’s gonna be awhile before you’re in any state to...well, do anything.”

Spock’s crystal could have healed him in seconds, Jim thought bitterly. “ _Spock_. I have to save him,” he coughed.

“Did you hear a word I just said?” Bones demanded.

Jim had, but he pretended he hadn’t, after a bit of struggling his managed to sit himself up. “Where are we?” He asked.

They were obviously still in the forest outside the city, but Jim didn’t recognize where they where. He, Bones, Chapel, and Uhura appeared to be sitting in what used to be a building, but this too was unhelpful.

“After you got blasted,” Bones began and grimaced.

Chapel picked up for him. “After you got blasted, Dr. McCoy and I came to your aid. The captain let us take you to treat you; I don’t think he thought you were going to make it. I wasn’t sure either, for a while.”

“We brought you out here. It’s a ways away from the city. We didn’t want to be close, in case…” Bones trailed off.

“I’m guessing the rest of the squad went into the city then?” Jim asked bitterly.

“What?” Uhura piped in. “No! Don’t think so poorly of us. The rest are standing guard.”

“Besides,” Bones added. “I don’t think the captain trusted we would stay loyal to him. Heh, for such an idiot, he’s a smart man.”

Jim felt his heart restrict in his chest (he hoped it was just the emotional effect of realizing his team were good people after all and not a side effect from his ‘drug cocktail’). He cleared his throat. “Right,” he said. “Can I see them?”

Bones clearly didn’t have the heart to deny him that. “I...suppose,” he relented. Together with Chapel, he helped Jim to his feet and out of their rocky enclosure.

Outside, Chekov sat moping against a tree and Scotty was fidgeting nearby. Sulu, for his part, was about twenty feet up in a tree, enthusiastically measuring its leaves. He spotted Jim first, and called out in delight, making his way down the tree so fast, Jim worried he might fall.

In a reprise of when he’d discovered his team at the pod, Jim found himself wrapped in a multi-person hug. It was noticeably gentler this time. He let it go on for a moment more before extracting himself.

“That was almost the second time we’ve lost you, Mr. Kirk. You can’t keep doing this to us!” Chekov scolded. Or tried to at least. He sounded considerably more whiny than harsh.

“Why didn’t you guys go with the captain?” Jim asked. “I don’t suppose he’ll let any of us back on his ship now.”

Scotty shrugged. “I want the profit as much as  anyone. God knows I could use it...But when I signed up for this mission, I did _not_ sign up for killing anyone. Not even hurting someone! And I know the others weren’t keen on it either, but were too afraid to step out of line.” Scotty shook his head. “They blasted you, Mr. Kirk. They were more afraid of breaking away from the group than they were of-- of killing someone! And besides all that, you’re more my captain than that man ever has been.”

“Maybe we should start calling you Captain Kirk,” Sulu suggested with a grin.

“Captain Kirk!” Chekov cheered.

Jim smiled. Their joy was infectious and he was comforted by their familiar antics, but there was something he really needed to do. “Well, as your ‘captain,’ I have a mission proposal.” He let the joke carry over for just a moment more, but he was earnest. “It will be dangerous, and I...I can’t truly ask it of you. None of you owe me, but...I need your help. I owe Mr. Spock my life and it’s my fault that any of this happened in the first place.” The team began to protest, but Jim continued. “I asked for his trust, and he gave it to me. I will not let my mistake be the cause of his death. If nothing else, I want to save Mr. Spock.”

There was a moment of silence before Sulu stepped forward. “Why stop there? Let’s save the city.” The team cheered in agreement. Jim’s chest tightened again and this time he was sure it was all because of his team.

Chekov stepped forward as well. “Let’s save the entire _planet_!”

“You heard him,” Jim chuckled. “We have a planet to save!”

As they dispersed to gather what they needed, Jim overheard Sulu tell Chekov, “There’s only one city on the planet. It’s the same thing.”

“Well then, saving the planet sounds cooler.”

Jim knew he couldn’t let anything happen to his team. Here they were trusting him fully and he knew he couldn’t let them down.

 

Squad Alpha, led by Jim made their way towards the city. They stayed off the main path in case there was any crew members guarding it or waiting for the squad. Jim wasn’t sure what they were going to do once they reached the gate. His journal had been pretty detailed; there was only one way into the city. There were ways out of it, through an underground labyrinth of caves, but Jim had no idea where their entrances were. The main gate was their only option, and it was sure to be guarded.

Indeed, as it came into view, Jim saw that it was open with a young human officer stationed in front of it. He was facing inwards towards the city, phaser at the ready. Jim gestured for the team to be silent and began sneaking forward. His current plan was to sneak up on the kid and grab his phaser before he had the chance to fire it.

Jim took a deep breath and held it when he was within several steps. From here, he could see that the kid’s hands were shaking on the blaster. He didn’t want to do this. Perhaps disarming him would do him a favor. Surging forward, Jim reached around the kid and yanked the phaser away from him.

The kid gave a gasp and whipped around. Jim pressed a hand over his mouth before he could shout. Uhura came up beside Jim to take the blaster.

“Listen, kid, this is very serious. I need you to tell me what your orders were,” Jim ordered and cautiously lifted his hands from the young officer’s mouth.

The kid was shaking badly, but he gulped and answered in a whisper. “They told me not to let anyone in or out, unless the captain ordered.”

Jim nodded that’s about what he expected. “I know you’re afraid, but I need you to understand that if you don’t let us through, a lot of people are going to die.” He kept his voice low and calm.

“ _You_ don’t understand. If they find out I let you in, I don’t know what they’ll do to me, they--” he broke off with a quiet half sob, and gestured to something just inside the gate. Jim peeked around and rubbed a hand over his face. It was another officer, older and presumably the guard before the kid. He was completely slumped on the ground, completely inert.

“Bones,” Jim hissed.

Bones appeared at his side. “Dear god...what kind of savages are we?” He immediately set to work reviving the man.

“C-can you...can you save him?” The younger officer asked timidly.

“Only if you keep your trap shut,” Bones snapped. The kid flinched, and Bones sighed. “He’s stunned pretty badly, but he’s not dead. You let my team pass through, and I’ll save him.”  

The officer thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Thank you.”

The squad flitted through the gates quickly. Jim doubted there were any other crew members nearby; fear was as good as any guard. Jim glanced behind him and thought, yes, fear was like a guard; both were defeated by something more powerful: compassion.         

“Uh, sir!” The officer whispered loudly. “I need my phaser back. They’ll notice that something’s up if I don’t have it.” Jim wanted to refuse him outright. None of the squad had blasters, and that would take their advantage. He looked at the officer’s face, and saw a kid, no older than 20, who just wanted to go to space and make some money. Not so different from Jim, years ago. Jim made the decision. He would trust him.

“Uhura,” Jim said, gesturing for her to return the blaster, which she did without hesitation. The officer nodded gratefully and reassumed his position. “Bones, are you going to stay here?”

“I’ve got a life to save right here,” Bones said. “Go save yours.”

This was Jim’s third trip through the city. Blood rushed through his ears as he and the remaining members of his team slipped from shadow to shadow, holding their breath whenever they spotted other humans. Thankfully this occurrence was few and far between. In fact, they didn’t see much of anyone. Jim hoped the Vulcans had escaped through their labyrinth. Their goal was the center of the city. That’s likely where the captain had gone.

Jim froze when he saw the courtyard. _That’s_ where everyone had gone. The courtyard had become a stadium and in the center, the captain was facing off with the king. Jim climbed on top of a low building for a better view. Maybe it made him more vulnerable, especially when he was still recovering from his earlier ordeal, but he figured everyone’s attention was fixed. He scanned the crowd looking desperately for one familiar figure. Spock wasn’t with his previous captors, nor could Jim spot him among the uniformed bodies. Jim’s heart nearly stopped when he finally saw him. Spock was crumbled on the ground in the shadows off to one side of the crowd. The one blessing was that nobody seemed to be paying attention to him anymore.

Climbing back down, Jim returned to his team. “I found Spock,” he whispered. “Stay here, try to figure out what’s going on. I’m going to get him out of there.” Not waiting for a response, he slipped out into the dim streets.

As he suspected, nobody paid him any mind as he slipped along the back of the crowd to where Spock lay. Jim pressed his hand against his chest, hoping he was still alive. There was nothing. Jim quelled the panic and anger that rose in his chest, reminding himself that Spock was a _Vulcan_ and he had no idea what indicated that he was alive. With one last glance at the jeering mob, Jim worked to move Spock into an alleyway. He was heavy. Much heavier than Jim expected, but he had to work quickly.

Jim collapsed in relief as soon as he and the (hopefully) unconscious Spock were out of sight. Not caring about whatever significance it held for Vulcans, Jim grasped Spock’s limp hands. “C’mon, c’mon,” he muttered. “Don’t be dead Spock, don’t do that to me. Please.”

Spock remained unresponsive. Jim shook his head angrily. “Wake _up_ , Spock. You can’t be dead. I won’t have you dying angry at me. You have to give me a chance to make it up to you.” Jim’s heart leapt when he thought he saw Spock’s move, but it was just a draft moving his hair. “Please, Spock.” His voice broke. “Wake up.” He closed his eyes, pressing their intertwined hands against his face.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself to accept that he had failed saving Spock. He couldn’t fail Spock’s people as well. For a bitter moment, he wished it was the other way around, that they failed to save the city, but he escaped with Spock. Jim pushed those feelings down they couldn’t help now.

He just had to let go. He had to let go of Spock’s hands. He let his fingers relax, steeling himself to feel Spock’s slip from his. Only they didn’t. Spock’s grip-- his _grip_ \-- on Jim’s hands tightened to the point of being painful, but Jim couldn’t find it in himself to care, Spock was _alive_ \--

“You’re alive! I--” Jim fell silent. Spock’s eyes were no less forgiving than they had been earlier. They were brimming with anger, and, was that hate?

Jim suddenly felt afraid. Spock was powerful. He was stronger then Jim several times over. Jim closed his eyes. If Spock was going to hurt him, so be it. He would certainly be justified. No blow came and Spock’s grasp disappeared. When Jim dared open his eyes, Spock himself had similarly gone.    

Numbly, Jim returned to his team.

“Where’s Mr. Spock?” Chekov asked.

“Somewhere. Alive. Other than that I don’t know,” Jim answered. “What’s going on with the king?”

Uhura made a quick report. “The captain is threatening him. He wants to know where ‘the power source’ is. The king said that he could never ‘take the heart.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

“The Heart of Atlantis. It’s what gives the crystals their powers. It doesn’t work by itself though. There has to be a lifeforce, and someone has to make a sacrifice. Spock explained it to me once, but I’m not even sure the Vulcans entirely understand it.” It was ironic, really, that a race so tightly ruled by logic was nurtured by something so illogical.

Uhura hummed. “The king has also called it ‘his heart.’ I think the captain might think it’s literally his heart.”

Jim shook his head. “As far as I can tell, Vulcans don’t have hearts. Not like we know them at least. In our chests.” Jim peeked out to the courtyard.

The king was standing now. Though he was shorter and considerably calmer than the captain, Jim couldn’t help but feel that he was the more intimidating of the two.

“I’m giving you one last warning, old man. Tell me where this heart is, or I’ll remove _you_ and find it myself,” the captain was saying.

“Then remove me.” The king enunciated each word.

The captain shrugged in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture and raised his hand for the crew’s attention. The sound of dozens of phasers powering up at once raised the hairs on his neck. He had to do something! There was no way the king, however tough or powerful he may be, could survive this. He raised his chin expressionlessly. The captain’s hand tensed, ready to order fire.

“Wait! Stop this is _madness!_ ” A feminine voice rang out. A woman, draped in luxurious robes appeared behind the king. Jim did a double take. She was _human_. “Sarek, you cannot do this. I won’t let you.” Sarek’s eyes widened in his first visible reaction Jim had seen. The woman went on, “I am the keeper of the Heart of Atlantis. I give myself up willing on the condition that you do not hurt of any of my people and leave this planet, never to return.”

The captain lowered his hands and grinned. “Finally! Someone with _reason_ . You can preach logic all you want, old man, but _this_ is a lady who gets it.”

“Do you agree to my terms?” The woman prompted.

“Amanda, I _forbid_ you--” Sarek tried to step forward but hesitated as the phasers were once again trained on him.

“My terms. Do you agree?” The woman-- Amanda, prompted.

“Sure, why not. We have a deal!” The captain said, reaching out his hand.

Amanda hesitated and behind her Sarek tensed visibly. It was of course, human custom to shake on a deal. She overcame her hesitation, and shook the captain’s hand. Immediately all the phasers became trained on her. She did not flinch.

“C’mon,” the captain called to the crew. “We have what we came for.” He held up a fistfill of crystal pendants and shoved Amanda ahead of him. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but the sooner I can get back to Earth, the better. I smell a pile of gold waiting for me.” The crowd gave an answering laugh and began surging back down the city streets.

“Am I the only one who’s not entirely sure what just happened?” Chapel asked.

Jim swallowed. “Nothing good. The captain got the Heart and, I believe, its lifeforce.”

As soon as the rowdy crew was out of sight down the street, Jim and his squad entered the courtyard. The king had sunk back onto his throne and was looking the most disconcerted he probably ever had in his life.

Jim went in front of him, bowing. “King Sarek,” he said.

“You. You are the one who brought the humans here. This was because of you,” Sarek said. It sounded more like a cool observation than the accusation it was, but it had the same effect regardless.

“I’m trying to make up for my mistake. I was fooled, and now people are getting hurt. I will do everything in my power to make it right. Just tell me how.” Jim wasn’t begging, but it was a near thing.

Sarek had regained his composure. “There is very little you can do, Mr. Kirk, unless you humans are in possession of a time traveling device.”

“I’m afraid not, sir,” said Jim. “Could you tell me what Amanda just did?”

Sarek’s expressions were much more controlled than Spock’s, but after all his practice reading the feelings that lurked behind dark Vulcan eyes, Jim thought he could see anger and sadness in Sarek’s for just a moment. “Amanda,” he said. “My wife, is sacrificing herself.”

“Yes, but _why?_ Won’t your people die without the power of the Heart? Unless...is she not the keeper of the Heart?” Jim asked. Perhaps she was a decoy, leading the crew astray while the Vulcans escaped or made plans or…

Unmistakable anger flashed in Sarek’s eyes. “My wife _is_ the keeper of the Heart.”

Jim was frustrated. “Then _why_ \--”

“She is leading them into the caves, where the mist is due to rise. She will perish alongside the human thieves,” Sarek said.

“The Heart--”

“The Heart only stays with a keeper with a strong life force. It will leave her as she dies to find a new keeper.” Sarek’s eyes were closed off again, betraying no emotion.

Jim licked his dry lips. He didn’t want to press, but he had to know if he wanted to help. “And if the Heart doesn’t find a new host?”

“The crystals will lose power. The city will become unlivable,” Sarek answered.

“Right,” Jim said. It was a no-win scenario. Unless he could help it. “King Sarek, I swear to you, I will return the Heart and your wife to you, or die trying.”

Behind him, his team shuffled uncomfortably. He wasn’t about to ask them to follow him into the jaws of death. In front of him, Sarek stared expressionlessly ahead. Jim figured they had gotten everything he was going to give. He gave one last half bow and turned to leave.

“If you truly mean to deliver on your promise,” Sarek said, startling him. “You are going to need this.” Jim turned to see him proffering his own crystal pendant.

“Sir, are you sure?” Jim asked.

“Take it,” he ordered. Jim did.

“Thank you. I won’t let you down. Or, if I do, I won’t be alive to see it,” Jim joked darkly.

“And I will not survive much longer to be let down,” Sarek returned. Jim wasn’t sure it counted as a joke, but he enjoyed it regardless.

“ _Die trying_ ?” Scotty said incredulously once they were making their way out of the city. “Are you _crazy_?”

“It’s my fault any of this happened. If it hadn’t been for me, Spock wouldn’t have agreed to escort the ships. If it weren’t for me, maybe this mission wouldn’t have happened in the first place,” Jim said.

Chapel shook her head. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“I can, and I will,” Jim answered petulantly.

“I’m not letting you get killed over this!” Chekov exclaimed.

“Then help me survive it,” Jim said.

“ _Who’s_ getting killed?” Bones startled all of them by appearing in the path in front of them. It made sense that he’d waited near the gate, they just hadn’t expected him.

“Bones! Good to see you,” Jim greeted. “And nobody, if all goes well.”

“And with your luck, all is _not_ going to go well,” Uhura quipped.

Jim waved off her comment. “How is your patient, Bones?”

“I’m happy to say I have good news about that. Come, see for yourself.” Bones lead them into a near building. It was probably some Vulcan’s home, but nobody was there to protest to their use of it. Inside was fairly bare, but there was a plush rug on which both officers, older and younger, slept soundly. “Turns out they’re brothers. No wonder the kid was so worked up. They’re both fine now.”

Jim smiled at the sight. It reminded him of what he needed to fight for. There were Vulcan families, children, relying on him. His conviction redoubled. He put his hand on Bones’ shoulder. “Bones, you’ve been an invaluable friend to me. You’re a doctor. You understand best what it feels like to need to save people. I need to do this.”

Bones looked nonplussed, but nodded. “You’re crazy Jim. But you’re a good man.”

“If I don’t make it back, I just want you to know...how I feel,” Jim started, but couldn’t keep a straight face. He started laughing before he could get the rest of his joke out.

Bones laughed too, rolling his eyes. “Get out of here, Jim. You have a planet you insist on saving.”

“That I do,” Jim said. “Goodbye Bones.”

“Goodbye, Jim,” Bones said. Jim appreciated that Bones was enough of a realist to let the weight in their goodbye be. He didn’t deflect or pretend the possibility it was their last one didn’t exist. With one last nod, Jim ducked out of the home made his way out of the gate.

Behind him he heard Chapel chide Bones saying, “Doctor, you were supposed to talk him _out_ of this!” Jim couldn’t hear Bones’ reply, but he was sure it was something sharp and witty.

 

For the first time, Jim was venturing into the caves alone. The ‘glow’ of the crystal tunnel was so dim, he almost thought it was a trick his eyes were playing or otherwise wishful thinking. It reminded him of those glow-in-the-dark stars he, like many children with dreams of space travel, had stuck on his ceiling. Right after the lights went off, they made beautiful constellations, bright enough to be distracting. After an hour or so, they lost their charge and faded to a barely-there shape. Unlike his stars though, Jim knew the darkness was an omen of things to come.

Even in the dark, Jim had spent enough time in this cave that he felt that he knew his way around. He searched for the dripping tunnel that would bring him to the top of the plateau near the rock bridge. It was a shortcut, he knew. He hoped it wouldn’t put him too far behind the crew and he hoped the mist wouldn’t be too high already. He had to save Amanda. Her sacrifice was brave, but it wasn’t her fault Jim was a fool.

Jim gave a ‘whoop’ of celebration when he found the tunnel. He froze when it echoed around the cave, but nothing around him changed. He scrambled up the tunnel. Doing it alone was much different, and much scarier than when Spock had been just ahead of him. Jim nearly slipped as he struggled to pull himself over the top. Not for the first time, Jim desperately wished Spock was there with him.

He took a second to breath once he reached the top. The drafted cooled the sweat off his arms. To his surprise, the crystal around his neck sent weak tingles through his chest. Standing up, he felt more awake than ever. Jim gazed over the far edge of the plateau at the deep cavern below. His heart sank a little to see mist already curling in the deeper sections. It would probably take a while before it reached the high levels, but it meant he was running out of time.

Jim scrambled down the twenty foot climb to the path below in record time (the fact that he slipped and fell the last six feet may have contributed to that). His ankle twinged, but there was no time to worry about that. Now he had to determine if he was ahead of, or behind the crew.

Some commotion to the right quickly answered that. He was behind them, but not far at all. They were probably about to cross the rock bridge. Jim ran forward and his behind a stalagmite. Peeking around he could see the crew waiting restlessly around the rock bridge. In the center, Amanda sat on the ground, rubbing dramatically at her ankles.

“I am an old woman,” she said. “I do not travel as quickly as I used to.” In the dark, Jim could see a blue light pulsing gently at her chest.

She was stalling for time, Jim realized. The mist was rising. Jim could see it lapping up the walls of rock on the opposite side of the bridge. This was the best place for them to fall to the cavern below, and she was just keeping them in place. Jim felt a surge of admiration for her in that moment.

“Ugh, why don’t we just carry her across?” One of the officers asked.

“What, are you stupid? It’s single file, and unless you’re volunteering to give the hag a piggyback…” said another

“Hag?” Amanda said, though she sounded almost amused. “That’s a rude thing to say. Didn’t your mothers raise you better than that?”

“Shut up, _hag_!” The officer roared. He raised a hand to strike her. Quick as a flash, a figure tackled him to the ground. It happened so fast, Jim almost missed it.

The figure straightened up and Jim had to stifle a gasp. It was Spock!

Amanda looked as shocked as Jim felt. “ _Spock?!_ What are you doing here?” Here voice was filled with a deep concern. She sounded...maternal.

It clicked in Jim’s head. Of course. Amanda was Sarek’s wife. Spock’s _mother_. Now was not the moment to reflect on that fact, however, because the crew had recovered from their surprise and were getting their phasers out. A couple blasts rang out around the cavern and so did the shot itself. People hit the floor as the energy ricocheted off the cave walls.

“No phasers, idiots!” The captain ordered. That at least put Spock at a more level playing ground. Jim debated whether or not to join the fight. He should be focused on rescuing Amanda, the keeper of the Heart, but he also couldn’t let Spock get hurt (again). Before he could make a decision, a sickly familiar sensation bit at his ankles. He looked down and blanched to see the mist already there. That was _fast_.

The crew was beginning to feel it too. They yelped and cursed. The cave was filled with a cacophony of “What is this?” “What’s happening?” “It hurts!”

Whatever he was going to do he had to do it now. Running in through the confusion and burning mist, Jim helped Amanda up.

“Amanda. I’m Jim Kirk. I’m on your side,” he said. He held up Sarek’s pendant as proof. “You can trust me.” Internally he cringed. That was a promise that hadn’t worked out well recently.

Amanda’s eyes were fixed at a point over his shoulder in horror. “Save Spock!” She ordered him, shoving him forward. Spock was grappling with several badly twitching officers who were driving him towards the edge of the precipice.

Jim fought through the pain wracking his body from the mist. He wrapped his arms around one of Spock assailants and dropped all his weight. The man collapsed immediately and, to Jim’s horror, rolled right over the edge to the hungry plants below. Spock got a grip on another and swung him around over the edge. The third simply succumbed to the mist and collapsed to the ground, body seizing. Jim looked away.

Spock looked at him and for the first time since his capture, his eyes held no anger. There was an intensity in them. Despite the pain, despite his limbs twitching, Jim felt more relief from that one glance than from any healing from a crystal. Then the captain shoved him off the cliff.

It happened like in slow motion. The realization that the ground was no longer under his feet. The feeling of being off balance. Finally the panic. Jim tried to find a purchase on the edge, but his limbs were not cooperating. His fingers bumped and bounced uselessly against the rough rock as he desperately tried not to fall over the edge.

Spock was there, in front of him. He was clearly affected by the mist, but there was something about Vulcans, there must be, that granted them a high tolerance. Spock’s hands were steady when they wrapped around his twitching forearms.      

“Do you trust me?” Spock asked.

“What?” Of course Jim trusted him!

“Do you trust me?” Spock repeated.

 “Yes!” Jim said. And with that, Spock hauled him up and tossed him. Jim couldn’t even scream while he was airborne. For one relieving moment he floated above them mist. He landed with a thud on the bridge. He was a bit disoriented but managed to stand up. He looked at Spock, still in the midst of the twitching and fighting and panic. Slowly, Spock held up a single twitching hand in the Vulcan salute. The message was clear; he wanted Jim to escape.

Well _screw that_. There was no way Jim was leaving now. One of his buckled but Jim managed to catch himself. He was starting to feel numb. He was certain that was a bad sign, but it was nicer than the biting pain. There was a scream behind him.

Jim whipped around so fast and with so little control that he nearly fell off the side. Behind him, veiled in the thickening mist was the captain who held Amanda. Jim didn’t stop to think. He ran in.

The thin mist was painful. The thick mist was excruciating. It filled his lungs, it burned his eyes. Both Amanda in the captain were writhing in pain when he reached them. With his remaining strength, he pulled Amanda from the captain’s grip.

“You--y-y-you. Jim. _Kirk._ ” The captain gurgled with all the fury he could muster. Jim’s leg happened to twitch in a way that his foot connected firmly with his face. Shame.

With a herculean effort, Jim managed to pull himself and Amanda from the thick mist in the middle of the bridge. The surrounding area wasn’t much better, but it was something. Concerningly, Amanda had gone silent. Jim glanced down at her and shouted in horror.

The pulsing orb that had been against her chest now floated above her. Was she _dead_? It was impossible to tell, between her twitching and his own twitching.

“Spock!” He called or at least he tried to. It came out muffled. As he moved forward, the orb stayed still. He tried to grab at it, return it to Amanda but his hand just phased through it. He shook his head (mostly voluntarily). He couldn’t worry about that now. “Spock!”

Spock looked up and stumbled best he could to where they were. He took his mother in his arms. He took Sarek’s crystal from Jim’s neck and pressed it to Amanda’s chest. Jim, for his part, finally collapsed. He wasn’t sure he had muscles at all anymore. Part of him vaguely thought they must have been dissolved. Did muscles dissolve? He was mostly numb now. If this was how he was going to die, that might be okay. Spock was there. 

He watched the mist rise and rise. On the bridge, something was moving. Was it the captain? Was he still alive? Jim didn’t want to die before him. He would wait until the captain started moving before he let himself die. But the captain kept moving. He was pointing something. Phaser, it was a phaser, Jim knew that one. He was pointing a phaser at Spock.

 _He was pointing a phaser at Spock_.

With a last burst of strength Jim didn’t have, he threw himself into a sitting position and from there in front of Spock. He heard the phaser go off. He saw the energy beam through his eyelids that he let slide close. He trusted Spock. Earlier he would have let Spock hurt him, but this was much better. He would protect Spock. He let it come to him. The world was moving slow. The light of the energy beam grew impossibly brighter, it must be getting close now…This was too slow for time to be moving. Time had stopped. Jim realized he was no longer in pain. His fingers responded exactly how he thought they would. He was already dead.

Jim blinked open his eyes. He was surrounded by a bright blue light all around. Jim hadn’t done a lot of thinking about what came after death, so he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d expected...but this wasn’t it.

Slowly the light began to fade and Jim realized he was still in the cave, now devoid of mist. The crystals around him shone almost blindingly bright, like light bulbs.

“Jim,” Spock said in awe. Jim looked down at his side. Spock and Amanda sat staring up at him.  

“The Heart chose you,” Amanda said weakly with delight. “You, Jim Kirk, are the new keeper of the Heart of Atlantis.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is why you shouldn't care more about a profit than innocent lives. You'll get eaten by alien carnivorous plants.
> 
> So it's 4:00 am right now, I started writing at 9 pm. I'm a little stir-crazy rn so please pardon any typos or weird stuff. I thought this chapter would be 3k, but I should just learn my lesson and automatically double whatever my expected word count is. Triple in the case of this fic as a whole. Help Me. 
> 
> I made...too many references, probably. Probably. I wanted to write a little more, but those are going in the ~EPILOGUE~ that I didn't think was going to exist. Maybe it's more of a Part V than an epilogue, but you know what?? You KNOW WHAT??? I want to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> SOOOOOOOOOO I'm gonna square with you.  
> 1\. This is my first time doing any fandom event  
> 2\. This is my first time publicly posting my writing  
> 3\. This is my first time actually FINISHING my writing  
> (*pointed look at myself*)  
> 4\. I was a pinch hitter so this was done in 2 weeks  
> 5\. I had not seen Atlantis 2 weeks ago  
> 6\. The entire time I was writing, I had only a very vague outline and nearly every single plot twist was conceived as I wrote it  
> So all things considered, I'M VERY PROUD OF MYSELF!!! I really hope you enjoyed!!! It may not be perfect but I strive to always make my writing at very least entertaining.  
> I loved writing this, and I am beyond relieved that it's finally done. :D


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